The Life and Times of Georgia Hayden
by Musical Redhead
Summary: Growing up in an idealized shadow is burdensome. With several hits to her self-worth, Gigi tries to find her place in the world, misguidedly at first. She works through her issues in her young adult life.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: Prologue**

Gigi walked with Rory through Stars Hollow toward the market on Monday afternoon. It was Halloween and she was spending the evening with Rory and Lorelai, since this was the first year she wasn't dressing up. Chris thought it would be fun if she passed out candy with the Gilmores. She was even getting to stay up late on a school night.

As they passed Miss Patty's, the woman was teaching a ballet class, the little girls in pink tutus twirling around. Gigi had joined in on a lesson once when she was eight. It was her first visit back to the town. Miss Patty said Rory and Gigi got their dance skills from their father.

"You dance?" Gigi asked her big sister.

"Oh, just when I was little, for a very short while. I was terrible."

"She's so modest," Miss Patty had cood. "She had talent."

"Not like Gigi," Rory said nicely. And if Rory said so, it had to be true, Lorelai reassured, because Rory was brutally honest about these things.

Gigi had asked, "Did you get a lot of beads?"

"Beads?"

"Michelle, my teacher, gives me beads when I don't complain or cry. I have a lot."

Miss Patty smiled. "Rory didn't need beads for that, she was such a good girl naturally."

"Oh."

Doose's market was busy when they walked in. They weren't the only ones doing some last minute stocking up. The candy aisle was fully pilfered, all the good treats taken. "I think we're going to have to make do with this," Rory said, taking inventory of what she had in her small basket after they claimed what was left. "At least they weren't out of popcorn and jello, so we can make popcorn balls. I wish they had more apples though. Our trees are going to look bare." She led the way to the checkout counters. All the cashiers had a line four deep, so they waited.

"It's a boy, we have a boy!" a man said, bursting into the market. It was one of the more peculiar citizens of the town, Kirk. He proudly went around, showing everyone a picture on his phone.

"How's Lulu?" Rory asked when he got to them. "She's good, she did great," Kirk said. He looked at the image of the baby boy, beaming. "And he's perfect." Glancing at Rory, he said, "It's times like these that make me grateful your mom turned me down that time I asked her out. Not that I wouldn't be honored to be your step-dad, but I wouldn't give up Lulu and the kids for anything."

Amused, Gigi asked, "You asked Aunt Lorelai out?"

"Uh, yeah, I remember that," Rory said. "It was my first day of senior year at Chilton." She unloaded their items on the counter.

Gigi was born when Rory was a senior, she knew the story. Her big sister had heroically came straight from school to Boston to be there when she was born. She was lucky to have Rory for a sister. She was going to Yale just like her, Rory even gave her a tour. Though it was rather dull—a lot of benches and libraries. But Chris had smiled proudly about Gigi seeing those benches.

"Luckily she was just getting out of a weird relationship," Kirk said. "Was it your dad? He was the last guy who'd been coming around. He was at the world premiere of my film."

"And Sookie's wedding in May," the balding man bagging groceries at the next counter said confidently. Gigi recognized him as the store owner.

Her dad had been coming around before Rory's senior year? Chris married Lorelai when Rory was a senior in college, not high school. There was a four year gap there. Four years, that's how old Gigi was when they were married.

"They certainly didn't shy away from public displays of affection, either," Taylor said in disapproval. "And then poof, he was gone. No one saw him again for years."

Public displays of affection? Gigi asked, "Were they kissing?"

"Oh, well . . . um." Rory nervously glanced at Gigi, then glared at Taylor and Kirk.

Chris and Lorelai were kissing at a wedding in May, and Gigi was born in January . . . Eight months. She was a fetus. Gigi frowned. "Where did he have to go?"

"Uh, he had to get back to Boston," Rory said uneasily.

Kirk didn't seem to notice any of this. "When you really stop to think about it, that would have been our one chance to work out. It was before Luke. No one had a chance after that."

With a frown, Taylor said, "That didn't help that Max guy."

"Oh, true," Kirk said, though not deterred. "But before Luke was still the opportune time for a guy to have a shot with Lorelai." He shook his head in wonder. "To think, how our lives could be different. Thank your mom for rejecting me," he said before moving on to the next person in line, bragging about how long the baby was.

Rory tilted her head in to quietly confide, "Mom wasn't going to date Kirk."

Gigi wondered why Rory would think she was concerned about that. She said, "That's when Dad was with my mom. Why did he go to a wedding with your mom?"

Rory busied herself with the last of their items and then peered into her purse, digging more than was necessary. "Oh you know Mom, when she can't find a date to a wedding, she asks Dad. Like my friend Lane's wedding. He was her date for that too."

If no one else was around, Chris was good enough? Is that why they got married? She asked, "My mom didn't mind he was on a date with Lorelai?"

"He went to the wedding _as_ Mom's date, they weren't on a date," Rory stressed, contradicting what Mr. Doose had just said. Kissing seemed date-like. "There's a difference."

"Oh, okay," Gigi said, unconvinced.

Rory was acting weird and not saying much, like she thought Gigi was just a little kid who didn't need to know the important details. And it was obvious it was important, or Rory wouldn't be clamming up.

Gigi tried one more time, "Why didn't Dad come back for years?"

"He was busy with other things. Work and your mom and stuff."

Other things, sure.

 _When you really stop to think about it, that would have been our one chance to work out. . . . how our lives could be different._

"You're awfully quiet today," Francine said over an after school snack the next day. "Are you tired?"

Rory had dropped Gigi off at her grandmother's house the next morning before school. She didn't come in, just parked in front of the house and bid Gigi goodbye. It was strange to think of Francine Hayden as Rory's grandmother too. Gigi felt a little guilty for liking that she didn't have to share.

She answered, "Yeah, I was up late last night." She nibbled at a sandwich, though she didn't have a big appetite today. "Can I ask a question?"

"Of course."

"Did my dad want to marry Lorelai?"

"They did get married," Francine said with a slight frown. "You remember living in Stars Hollow for a little while, don't you?"

Yes, Gigi remembered tiptoeing around Rory's room, not allowed to touch anything. She didn't have her own space in her former step-mother's house. "I know they got married when I was little. But what about before that, like before Dad married my mom? Was there any other time he wanted to marry Lorelai?"

"Well, yes, when Rory was born. Richard Gilmore came up with that plan—they'd get married and Christopher would work with him at the insurance company. Christopher was going to do it too, he wanted to do the right thing. But Lorelai refused to go along with it."

Gigi vaguely knew the details. Chris and Lorelai were only 16 when Rory was born. It was Too Young. Lorelai didn't want Chris working at some boring office job all his life, where he'd be unhappy. So Chris wasn't there for Lorelai and Rory at all. That's why he married Sherry. It was why he was in the delivery room when Gigi was born. He felt guilty about the first time.

"Then why wasn't Dad there when Rory was born?"

Francine lifted a shoulder and her mouth formed a line. "Because she was already born when Emily called."

Chris had told her he felt like a father when Gigi fell asleep in his arms for the first time, in the hospital. She asked why he didn't feel like a dad when he held Rory. He said he only held her for a few minutes when he visited them at the hospital. Rory had started to cry, and after an attempt to rock her a bit, Lorelai had taken the baby back, quieting her down quickly.

"Lor was amazing," he'd said at the memory. "She always knew the right thing to do. I was just . . in the way." He had a far away look in his eye, the feeling of uselessness still haunting him. He shook his head. "She never needed me." He said he'd screwed up her life enough, and she knew what was best.

Gigi asked her grandmother, "Did you want them to get married when Rory was born?"

Francine averted her gaze. "We wanted him to go to college. We sent him to boarding school," she said. "We thought he'd be better off away from, well, everything here. But he kept asking about Lorelai. Straub got so upset once, he told Christopher that Lorelai ran away with the baby, so he should focus on Princeton." Francine shook her head. "The next thing we knew he got kicked out of school."

The first of several. Her dad called himself his parents' greatest disappointment. She decided right then she needed to go to Princeton. Her grandma was looking sad about the past, Gigi was sure it would make her happy. She wanted to make her happy.

XXX

It was spring break during her freshman year, and Gigi was in Paris, visiting her mother. Things were better than the previous year, when her parents had fought over her schooling. Even an ocean between them couldn't buffer a conflict. Sherry had wanted Gigi to attend boarding school abroad, and Chris thought his ex-wife had a lot of gall to think she should get any say in the matter. He won too, keeping Gigi in Connecticut to attend prep school.

At least Sherry no longer discussed all the merits of school in a foreign country and how much she thought Gigi would like it. Gigi wondered how her mother would know what she liked. It was _she_ who knew what Sherry liked.

"I just got some new eyeshadow from L'Oreal, do you want me to show you?"

Makeup had been another argument for her parents. Sherry thought 13 was old enough, Chris thought she should wait a few more years. Gigi sided with her mother, 13 was grownup enough for a little lip gloss. Since then, Gigi was sure to look nice whenever she visited her mom.

"Oh, actually, that reminds me, I have some really good news," Sherry said, smiling.

Gigi held her breath. This was it. Her mother was going to come back home. She had finally done everything right and her mom noticed. It took her years and hours of practice so she could be en pointe by the time she was 11. She followed her mother's instructions on how to apply concealer to properly cover acne flare ups. She had a book in her purse so people would know she was just as astute as Rory. Sherry was going to be in the same country and get into heated arguments with Chris about who's turn it was to get Gigi for holidays and summers. It would be a tug of war with Gigi in the middle, a parent on each side. She was too much of a realist to want them to get back together. Or maybe she was just selfish. It was their turn to try to be the best to win her love and affection. All of her hard work was going to pay off. It had been worth it.

She hadn't thought of it before, but she supposed Sherry might live in Boston again, which would be a bit of a drive. But what was a longish drive compared to a flight across the Atlantic Ocean?

"I have some new makeup for you to try," Sherry said. She got up and left the room, coming back with a small cosmetic tote that Gigi recognized as a gift set.

Gigi stared at the bag that her mother placed in her hands, confused.

"Well, open it."

She slowly unzipped the bag and found small samples of makeup. Colorful eyeshadows, pink blush, a small bottle of foundation. She read the label, "Lancome?"

"Try it out and I'll get you more of whatever you like. I got a new job there," Sherry said proudly. "It's a higher position than I had at L'Oreal, and it pays a lot more." She went on with a marketing spiel about how much better the cosmetics line was in comparison to her former employer, but Gigi wasn't listening. Her heart was thudding in her chest, a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Her mother wasn't coming back to her. Not now, or ever.

Gigi 'forgot' the gift set when she left her mom's Parisian house. She didn't know if she'd ever go back there. She dumped all of her makeup in the trash when she got home. Every last lip gloss and primer, powder and eyeliner. She scrubbed her face until it was pink. She didn't care if she looked tired or washed out. She didn't care about bags under her eyes or future wrinkles. She wasn't going to waste any more time on it.

XXX

She kept getting into trouble when she went back to school the following week. She couldn't stop talking back to her teachers, and got into a fight in the hallway with her friend, Hailey. The other girl had heard that Gigi's boyfriend had dumped her because she was too clingy and jealous. Hailey agreed, she was kind of needy. They weren't friends anymore. Gig had been warned for her mouthing off to teachers. But this tipped the scales. There would be no fighting at this prestigious institution, so she got suspended for a few days. There were even threats of expulsion if she didn't clean up her act.

This was not the first time her father had been called in for fighting at school. On her first day of kindergarten, she got into an altercation with a boy in her class. She had said that her sister was Rory Gilmore. _The_ Rory Gilmore. She was famous. She'd been so excited to tell all these new people, surely they'd be impressed. But she only received blank stares from her classmates. One boy argued that her sister was in fact, not famous. They argued until she shoved him, landing her in the principal's office. Her father was called in, and he had to explain to her that a lot of people didn't know who Rory was, because she wasn't really famous, yet. But the world was just slow and stupid, and as soon as it realized how special and amazing Rory was, she would be famous and everyone would love her the way they did.

He was reassuring, but the faint feeling of being deceived lurked in the recesses of her mind. Why would everyone talk about her sister like that if it wasn't true? Was it all a lie?

Chris didn't know what to do about her this time. That much was clear when Gigi overheard him on speakerphone in the kitchen on the second morning of her suspension. It was Lorelai he was talking to, Gigi recognized her voice. She hated that Lorelai was her dad's go-to any time he didn't know what to do about Gigi. She wished he had someone else to call for advice.

"They might expel her, Lor," he said, after listing her recent transgressions. "I don't know what I'm going to do. I keep having flashbacks to when I couldn't get a preschool to accept her."

"Uh-oh, return of the demon child," Lorelai said.

Gigi scowled. Demon child?

"I just don't know what happened. She hasn't gotten in this big of trouble in a long time." He asked, "Rory never did anything like this when she was in high school, did she?"

"No," Lorelai said, in what was almost a scoff. "Well, she got into a little trouble when she first started Chilton. They wouldn't let her take a test just because she was a little late, and they refused to change their stupid rule. She had a meltdown. But that wasn't her fault, she got hit by a deer. Rory, being Rory, just _had_ to get out to make sure it was okay."

"She hit a deer?"

"No, the deer hit her. There were antler marks on my Jeep."

"Huh," he said. "It's just not fair, you know, that she doesn't have a mom like you around."

He'd told Gigi that before, that she deserved a mother like Lorelai. But if Lorelai was such great friends with Rory, how could she be the world's best mom? A mom and a friend weren't the same, Gigi knew. Then again, her mother didn't want her, and her friend found her draining. So maybe they were the same after all.

"I wish I could take all the credit there," Lorelai said. "But you know Rory, she was an angel child to begin with."

"Believe me, I know."

"So you have to give Gigi a break here," Lorelai said compassionately. "She's special too, of course, but Rory—she's _extraordinary_ , Chris. It's not fair to measure her and Gigi with the same stick."

How _thoughtful_ of Lorelai to put things in perspective for him. It was one thing to constantly come up short, but it was another to be so far and away inferior to her big sister that she didn't even merit comparison.

Gigi turned around and went back up to her room. She felt like stomping, she was so mad, but didn't want to be noticed. She closed the door as tears gathered in her eyes. She picked up the nearest object and threw it across the room as hard as she could. More than ever before, she wished she didn't have a sister. It was like living with a ghost who was a lot better than her. Gigi could feel the ghost's presence, but only her dad could see it.

"My daughter's Rory and the sun shines out her ass," she said in a high pitched mocking tone. She picked up the one framed photo of her and Rory and turned it face down with a thud on the shelf.

Luckily, the school officials didn't consult Lorelai Gilmore when dealing with troubled students. The guidance counselor suggested anger management classes when she returned from suspension, and Gigi started eating her lunch with the woman. It was better than facing her classmates, who surely knew no one wanted her.

Given her chosen company, her extracurricular activities came up. It was just as well, getting into Princeton should be her main priority now. "You're still taking ballet?" the counselor asked.

Gigi was silent for a moment. "No. I'm quitting."

"Oh, why?"

She jerked a shoulder up and didn't make eye contact. "I never wanted to do ballet, it was my mom. She wanted a ballerina."

"I see. Your mom lives in Paris, doesn't she?" the woman gently asked.

"Yup."

"Do you see her much?"

"I just did."

"How did it go?"

Gigi shrugged again, pretending she didn't care. "Great. She got a new job."

The counselor was quiet for a minute, her eyes narrowed, but didn't press the issue. Instead, for the time being, she handed over a sheet of activities the school offered, explaining it would be good for Gigi to fill her time with something else. "It looks like you already write for the newspaper."

"Mm-hmm," Gigi mumbled, her cheek resting on her fist as she looked down at the list of clubs and sports. She checked the box next to tennis. Something about whacking at a ball appealed to her.

When she started high school, it was a given that she'd write for the paper. It was one of those things—one of those three essential things. There was always an unnecessary book in her purse or backpack, even if she wasn't actually reading it. She accepted the coffee when a cup was offered, even though she only used it to keep her hands warm. Rory had talked up the paper, said it was fun. So Gigi always planned to write for the paper too. She had gotten good at emulating Rory, and it made her dad beam at her proudly. And why wouldn't it? That's the life he had wanted, with the perfect daughter.

Working on the newspaper was easy enough—listening to people and nosing around. It didn't involve complete discipline of her mind and body, like dancing. And what exactly did Rory ever do that was so impressive? She'd never spent hours upon hours for _years_ , practicing to get better at something. What did she ever put her blood, sweat, and tears into? Sitting in a comfy chair to read a really big book didn't take much effort. She didn't have to put any of herself into it but her time. So she read a lot and went to Yale, big freaking deal.

Gigi checked the box next to field hockey and just imagined gripping the stick in her hands, and taking a swing at a ball. How soon could she get one of those sticks?

Her time with the counselor had not been confidential. Her father arranged his schedule to be at the house when she got back from school, though he was distracted by a grey and black striped kitten she was cradling when she walked in. He stared. "What's that?"

"A cat."

"You can't just get a pet without talking to me about it first."

"Someone was giving them away on my walk home. They weren't even for sale. No one wanted them." She looked down at the cute kitten, petting him. "He needed someone to take care of him." She blinked as her eyes started to get watery.

Chris softened. "Hey, we didn't really talk about how your visit with your mom went the other week."

"It was fine." Her voice was about to crack. She continued to focus on petting the cat. "Did you congratulate her? She got a new job at Lancome. It's a better position and she'll make a lot of money and she never has to come back." She sniffled and swallowed hard. "She doesn't want to be my mom."

"Aw, hon," Chris said, moving to hug her. "I'm sorry." His shirt was wet with her tears when he stepped back. "You can keep the cat. He's pretty cute."

It was time to accept that her dad was all she would ever have. He may have wanted his perfect daughter, but Gigi was what he got instead. She couldn't take him for granted. She had to be good. She needed to be . . . better. She needed to be the perfect daughter. She owed him that.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Characters from The Ballad of Digger Stiles are going to start popping up. A quick perusal of chapters 1 and 6 is enough to get the gist. The OC Jennifer Dugray belonged to another familiar family, in the most subtle, implied, and non-convoluted way I could manage. It's backstory borrowed/toned down from my other fic, Speak Now. I'm not sure if anyone picked up on it, but it will come into play in the next chapter here.

 **Chapter 2**

Gigi stood with her boyfriend on the front porch of the house where a party was taking place. They could hear music playing from inside, and a lot of cars lined the street. She gave him a sidelong glance as he looked down at his phone. "Who are you texting?"

He sighed and impatiently said, "No one."

"Does no one have a name?"

He was annoyed with her, obviously. That was fine. She could easily think of five or six ways he annoyed her. In fact, they probably wouldn't be together much longer. The relationship had run its course, she'd end it before he got the chance.

She followed him into one of the rooms at the party, until he sat down to talk to some friends. She stepped away to mill about on her own, and waved to a few girls she knew from her dorm, but kept walking. She heard someone playing a piano in another room and her feet started to move toward it, recognizing the melody. When she reached the room where the music was coming from, she saw a dark haired boy sitting at a piano, quite dramatically playing 'Let it Go'. She'd never seen him on campus, but he must go to Princeton.

She wasn't the only one whose feet travelled down memory lane. At least four girls had surrounded the piano player, singing along and smiling as they acted out Elsa's part. It was after the small crowd of girls left that Gigi spoke, "You're kind of a ham, you know."

The boy, still at the piano, looked up at her. The corner of his mouth quirked up. "Yeah." He leaned back to make sure no one else would hear, then said, "The sad part is, _Frozen_ is the only thing I still remember how to play. Five years of lessons, down the drain. Then I switched to cello, because that's clearly the key to being cool."

She grinned. "That's not such a waste." She came into the room and stood on her toes. She gracefully lifted her leg behind her and extended her arms straight-one parallel with her leg and the other up in front of her. She held the arabesque for a moment and then lowered herself back to her standing position. "Eleven years and that's all I can do."

The boy's brow arched. "I bet you can do more than that."

"Maybe. But it won't make my mother suddenly decide she wants to come back and be my mom again, so why bother?" She didn't usually mention that to people. She didn't know why she told this stranger. He didn't deserve to be burdened with her family history. It would make anyone uncomfortable. Noticing she'd made him uneasy, she asked, "Did you learn _Frozen_ just so you could pick up girls at parties?"

"No. My little sister was obsessed with the movie—huge Elsa fan. So I learned the song for her birthday one year. I actually hate it. A lot."

Gigi sat down next to him on the bench, her back to the keys. "That was really sweet of you."

"Yeah," he said, a little too empathetic, for himself. Closer now, she could see his dark blue eyes. "The bad part was, she made me play it all the time so she could sing along, which was annoying. But on the bright side a lot of other girls who didn't live at our house also liked that movie." He gestured to her with an open palm. "Such as yourself."

She shrugged a shoulder. "It's okay, but I liked Anna better. She saved the day."

Brightly, the boy said, "That's what I always told Sloan—my sister. It was the easiest way to get on her nerves when she was six."

Gigi nodded and stared across the room. "I also like Anna because she's like me. I'm the little sister with a big sister who doesn't have time to come out and build a snowman with me." Rory would rather do that with her mother, anyway. Chris had said Rory was like Elsa—she was like a princess with lots of important things to do, but she would really like to spend more time with Gigi if she could.

"Oh, you like a deeper connection to your fictional characters," he said, again caught off guard by her over-sharing, but went with it. "You aren't close to your sister?"

"No. But there's an 18 year age difference and we have different moms. So we were never meant to be siblings in the traditional sense," Gigi explained. "We just happen to share a father who has a knack for accidentally impregnating his girlfriends."

The boy nodded solemnly. "Been there." When she frowned at him in mild horror, he went on, "No, not me, my dad. He did the same thing. That's how I got here."

"Ah. Is Sloan your half-sister?"

"No," he said. "Same mom and dad. They got married."

"Oh," she said heavily with a single nod.

"What? You sound like you perfectly understand something."

"I do," Gigi said. "My dad only married my mom because she was pregnant with me, so she left when I was two. Your version of the story got a happy ending."

He shook his head. "That isn't what happened. I didn't even meet my dad until I was three, because my mom didn't want him to try to marry her when he didn't want to—and something about a Volvo. I was six when they did get married. Then we all moved into the same house and I got a sister."

"Oh. I stand corrected," she said dryly.

"Sorry about your parents." She just nodded and they were quiet for a minute. He tilted his head toward her. "Are we going to kiss now?"

She scowled at him in surprise. "No, why would we kiss?"

"I don't know, we were sharing." He gestured at the piano. "The setting is romantic."

"We also don't know each other's names," she said, pointedly.

"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."

"There you are," said Gigi's boyfriend from the door. "I've been looking all over for you."

The boy on the bench next to her quietly said, "And you came with a date."

She glanced at him and nodded before getting up, disappointed to leave, even if she wasn't going to kiss him. Probably.

XXX

The house was quiet when Gigi arrived late Friday night. They had moved here after he and Lorelai split. Since Chris was working for the Hartford office by that time, he decided they should stay to be near his mom. He took Gigi along to look at houses, and she excitedly ran from one bedroom to the next, happy to pick out her very own. She wasn't going to have to share, and wouldn't be required to carefully not to touch anything. It was a whole room, just for her and her stuff. She didn't have any trouble picking which room she wanted, but Chris said he already called the master bedroom. So she picked the one next to his, glad she got to be upstairs near him.

Her dad never remarried or had more kids. He didn't even have a serious girlfriend. There was only one time when a woman woke up in their house in the morning. Gigi had pleaded that they not move into her house, because she liked this one.

"Why would we live in her house?" Chris had asked.

"Like when we went to live in Aunt Lorelai's house."

"Oh."

No other woman was to be seen coming or going after that. He promised that this would be their house, and he wouldn't take her to live in any others. And for that, she was grateful. She liked having a place that was just theirs.

Gigi pulled her cellphone out of her bag and saw she had a missed call from her dad, so she tapped on his name.

"Hey, kid," he answered. "Did you make it back all right?"

"Yeah. I made it through the city okay. The house is kind of cold, can I turn up the heat?"

"Sure, go ahead. I just turned it down since I was out of town all week," he said. "Sorry I couldn't be there now, but I'll be back Sunday morning. And then you better be ready, because we are going to do some serious hanging out."

"I can find some way to occupy myself tonight," she told him. "I was thinking of visiting grandma."

"Tonight? It's getting kind of late. Why don't you wait until tomorrow for that?"

"Oh, okay."

"I talked to Rory yesterday, and we couldn't remember the last time you guys hung out."

"She's always busy." Gigi was busy too, but she wasn't as important.

"Well, it's your lucky night, because she and your aunt Lorelai are having a movie marathon after their Friday night dinner and Rory invited you. What do you say?" He sounded so enthusiastic. "It's been a long time since you've gone to one with them."

"I don't want to impose." Really, she didn't want to go. She felt like an outsider at their movie nights.

"Don't be silly, you're family," Chris said. "And she invited you. She wants you to come. They both do."

She sighed heavily. It was only one night. She could survive one night and it meant a lot to her dad. "Yeah, okay. Movies sound fun."

Gigi wasn't the only honorary Gilmore girl invited to movie night. April Nardini was there, already situated on the couch. April was Luke's daughter, and Lorelai was with Luke. Gigi would never forget the first time she met the other girl. She was eight, and when introduced, April gave Rory a perplexed look. "I didn't even know you had a sister."

"Well I do. Gigi and I have the same dad. Don't we?" Rory asked unnecessarily. She didn't tell people she had a sister? Did she forget? Gigi knew they didn't see each other much, but _she_ knew she had a sister. It was impossible to forget.

She used to resent April, who lived far away and wasn't even related to Rory, yet closer to the inner circle because of her dad. Gigi liked to think she grew out of it, but some bitterness still remained. She didn't appreciate having Rory for a sister the way she was supposed to. But it was the principle of the thing.

April had a knack for sounding condescending a lot of the time, and she thought Gigi was spoiled. "Nice car," she had said insincerely when Gigi pulled up in a shiny new car when she was 16. She was clearly of the mind that Gigi didn't deserve nice things she didn't earn. It didn't seem to bother April when Chris bought Rory a car for her 30th birthday. But that was different. Rory deserved expensive presents.

Luke was at Lorelai's house when Gigi arrived, but as usual, he was leaving the girls to their movies, and making himself scarce. He was just dropping off food, in addition to the junk they already had arranged on the coffee table. He was always nice to Gigi, probably aware that Chris would inquire. Luke beamed at his daughter being included by the Gilmores. It was the exact same look Chris had when Gigi hung out with them. The two old rivals were more alike than they realized. They both loved their daughters. But if Gigi and April could be more like the Gilmore girls, and accepted in the club, all the better.

"Everyone's here, let's get this movie night started," Lorelai said, pulling out three movies.

Gigi didn't hold her breath, they usually watched something she'd never seen. But she was surprised by the choices, she actually liked them. The first movie in the lineup was even her favorite for a while in high school. Her dad must have told Lorelai what she'd like. Then the movie started.

April got a shot in first, ironically commenting on how much she _loved_ how they found all the mediocre actors bumming around Hollywood and put them in this movie together. It made for convenient mocking. Gigi had a picture of the male lead on her bedroom wall when she was 16.

"That worked to their advantage," Lorelai said. "They were hoping to appeal to a key demographic."

"The lowest common denominator?" April asked flatly.

"It's important to know your audience," Rory said, pretending to pay a compliment.

Lorelai grinned in response.

Was it Gigi's turn? She didn't have anything.

She crossed her arms and tried to tune out the insults, but it was difficult, they just kept coming. She wished she could disappear into the couch, just sink away. She felt small enough to do so. She might as well have melted away, she wasn't participating in the slaying.

The food was gone before the movie was half over, and when the credits rolled Lorelai mocked the song before stopping it. She went to the TV to change the disk. "You're pretty quiet over there."

Gigi sat up to stretch. "I'm kind of tired. And I've been too busy listening to you guys. You're just so fast. Nothing slips by you and Rory."

Lorelai smiled proudly. "It takes years to reach our level, but with practice, you too will be able to mock with the best of us." She looked over to the youngest brunette. "April has been catching up though."

The girl lifted her chin. "I'm a quick study. But to be fair, this movie makes it pretty easy," she said. "Which isn't to say I'm not still the student. I have a long way to go before I surpass the masters. Dad actually felt the need to warn me before my first movie night," April said with an eye roll. "He said not to worry if I couldn't keep up with you two at first. But I reassured him that I was up to the challenge."

April thought she was in the bubble, and Gigi pitied her for it. She didn't realize membership in the exclusive club was maxed out at two. No one else could get in, and keeping up didn't grant full membership. They didn't let anyone inside their little jokes. Anything waved off as 'A Gilmore Thing' would not be explained. Like that time Gigi ate three apples and Lorelai asked if she was pregnant. She felt embarrassed and didn't eat apples there anymore. She just didn't want to get sick off junk food. Once was enough.

It didn't make sense. It wasn't like Luke had to settle for a life without Lorelai and Rory. April didn't have to fill the void for her dad the way Gigi did. But for whatever reason, April did try to emulate them. She marvelled at their eating habits and complimented their amazing metabolism. She found their taste in old movies so refreshing. And they liked the _best_ music. If you adored them, they'd allow you to sit next to their bubble.

Gigi had come up with an excuse to leave, but Rory got to her first. "How are things going at the paper?"

"Yeah, it's no _Yale Daily News_ , but I hear the _Daily Princetonian_ isn't too shabby," Lorelai said.

"It's good. I get a lot published." It was in part due to her taking stories out from under other reporters. When someone got a story she wanted, she wrote it anyway and turned it in. The editor had a choice then. It didn't make her popular on the staff, but she got more bylines than only doing her own work. "I'm starting an internship when I go back Monday."

"That's great, where is it?" Rory asked.

"The _Trenton Times_ ," Gigi said. "It's not too far from school."

"If you're half the writer Rory is, I'm sure you'll do great," Lorelai said.

Gigi knew she was being genuine. One could only hope to be half of everything Rory was. If she could come in second behind Rory, then she'd be doing well in life. She took a deep breath and let it out. _Relax_.

"But be careful, okay?" Rory said.

Before Gigi could ask what she should be careful about, Lorelai jumped in, "Yeah, you don't have to listen to anyone with a fancy title who seems important. It doesn't automatically mean they know anything about you or journalism."

Gigi frowned. "Who, the editor?"

"Well, yeah, the editor, the publisher," Rory said. "Their opinions are completely subjective, so don't put stock into it."

Lorelai plopped back down next to Rory. "Ah, hon, I know you're worried about Gigi because you're an amazing big sister, but it'll be different for her. The owners don't have a reason to hate her. They aren't out to get her." Her voice was full of sympathy and compassion, for her daughter. "She probably won't even see the publisher."

"Why would they—." Gigi stopped. She was confused by their poor advice, but now she got it. This wasn't about her. "Did you ever do an internship during college?"

"Just one. But I should have followed my instinct and turned it down," Rory said, waving it off. "It had no effect on my career whatsoever."

"Why not?"

"No reason, it was nothing. It just wasn't a good experience," Rory said with a tight grin, unwilling to divulge, staying inside the special bubble, where she was safe.

Gigi hadn't been valedictorian in high school. She didn't get into all of the Big Three schools, or a free ride to MIT. But that didn't make her an idiot. Everyone knew Lorelai and Rory talked a lot. It was a point of pride for the lucky few who could 'keep up'. But Gigi knew there was more substance in what they didn't want to say. Like now, Nothing meant Something.

"And it's not like those people own all the papers in the world, only 12 or 13. That's hardly any at all in the grand scheme of things," Lorelai said.

"You're right," Rory said. Then to Gigi, "You're going to do great. Let's get the next movie started."

Gigi sat up straighter and stretched her arms. "I'm actually going to head out."

"Already?" Lorelai asked.

"Yeah, it's getting late and I'm really tired from the long drive I had today."

"Oh that's right. Well it was nice seeing you. Let us know how the internship goes."

"Hey, I wonder what became of pompous Princeton guy," Lorelai said, starting the next movie as Gigi walked out.

XXX

Christopher was already sitting at the kitchen table when Gigi went downstairs Sunday morning. "Hey, Gi'g," he said with a big smile when she joined him.

"Morning. You're awfully chipper for this hour."

He took a sip of coffee and nodded. "I'm not on Eastern time yet. I foresee myself crashing later. Did you have a good time with the Gilmores the other night?"

She couldn't tell him that she didn't. "Yeah, it was fun," she said, averting her gaze and pushing her hair behind her ear. She accepted the cup of coffee he offered her, though she wasn't going to drink it. She tried to like it, but it was awful no matter what she put in it. She was jittery after one cup, and any more than that made her feel a bit sick. It was really too bad, because being caught with a coffee cup was the easiest way to earn the title of honorary Gilmore girl.

"What did you guys watch?"

"Something stupid."

"Did Lorelai and Rory have a field day?"

"Yeah, you know them."

"That I do." He flipped a pancake on the griddle to make sure it was finished before serving it to her on a plate. After making a couple more and taking a seat next to her, he said, "I talked to Lorelai this morning, she and Rory had some concerns about that internship you're starting. Are you sure you want to do it at that paper?"

"Yes. It's close to school, and it had an internship available. Those were my main criteria when I applied."

"Yeah, but this particular paper is owned by some bad people. Rory looked into it. The publishers are total jerks," he said. "She had an internship at one of their papers during college and it didn't go so well."

This again. "What happened?"

"She was doing an amazing job at that paper and then the publisher had the nerve to tell her she didn't have 'it'. Can you believe that?"

"Blasphemy." She shifted her eyes to the side.

"Exactly. You know your sister, she's Rory," he said. "She was, understandably, pretty upset about it. She got into some trouble with a yacht because of it."

"What kind of trouble?"

He shook his head. "Speeding probably, I don't know. You know Rory, it was probably nothing and she blew it up in her mind." He went on, "She even took some time off school, and didn't talk to Lorelai for months." He shook his head. "I can't believe I liked the kid, I had no idea he caused so much trouble."

"What kid?"

"Her boyfriend at the time. It was his dad's paper, got her into all that trouble."

Of course nothing was Rory's fault. _Relax. Relax. Relax._

"His whole family was horrible to her for no reason at all. They didn't think she was good enough. They didn't even care that she's a Gilmore."

It was the 21st century, who the hell _would_ care?

"That's why she got the internship, to buy her off after the way they treated her," Chris said. "But she's strong, so she ignored the guy and went back to Yale, where she belonged. Next thing we knew, she was voted the editor of the Daily News, unanimously, no less. The jerk was obviously wrong."

Gigi didn't say anything, instead focusing on not saying something snide.

Chris, who was still sitting across from her, said, "I don't think you should take the internship."

She put down her glass of orange juice and impatiently asked, "Why?"

"I don't want you getting mixed up with these people. I'm sure you could get another internship at a different paper, and you'll do great," he said.

She shook her head. "No. That guy isn't the publisher anymore," she argued. "It's a woman now, and I'm not involved with her son—if she even has one."

"Gigi, come on, I'm concerned about you."

"Well don't be. Just because Rory couldn't handle it doesn't mean I can't."

"Hey, don't talk about your sister like that. She wasn't being treated the way she should. It's completely understandable she was upset."

Right, and that made her infallible. "It doesn't matter if the publisher doesn't like me. I'm still in control of my reactions." No one could say she didn't learn anything from anger management. "I'm doing the internship, and I'll be fine. Don't worry about me."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Gigi stood outside a conference room with a cup of coffee in one hand and a sheet of paper in the other as she waited on guard, ready for her ambush. The boss was coming in today to review operations, and Gigi was primed to make an impression. She wasn't even picky about what impression she got. She'd get a surge of smug satisfaction if she received positive feedback, but she also braced herself for negative. She wouldn't shut down if a stranger didn't hold her hand and tell her she's amazing. No one talked to her like that, ever. She was very experienced in receiving advice from professionals who were helping her to improve at something.

And it wasn't like Gigi was dating the boss's son. She wouldn't be deeply offended if anyone wasn't impressed by her last name.

She glanced down at her watch for a third time and decided to go into the room and take a seat in one of the chairs along the wall. Then she stood instead. She didn't want to be sitting when everyone walked in, she needed to be ready to put her clips in front of the publisher. She had done the same thing with the editor.

Someone appeared at the door then, but it wasn't an employee from the paper. It was a boy near her age, tall with dark hair and stormy eyes. Her heart fell to her stomach. It was the boy from the party, the one at the piano with the perfect family, living her alternate life. He held onto the frame of the door as he poked his head into the room.

He glanced around, looking at Gigi since she was the only one there. Recognition flashed in his eyes at the sight of her. "You're the sad ballerina from the party." He pointed at her. "Didn't we kiss?"

The corner of her lips quirked up. "No."

"But we were going to, right?" He wagged his finger and smirked. "We were going to." Then he said, "The receptionist said my mom would be here. She wanted to have dinner with me while she's in town—my mom, not the receptionist, although she did seem nice—but my professor scheduled an exam," he said. "I just wanted to stop in and say hi."

"I can tell her you stopped by. Who is she?"

"Jennifer Stiles." The boss. That made him the boss's son. Crap. "She'll answer to Jenny Dugray too." He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head in thought. "I don't think she kept Dugray for work, but I could be wrong."

"You don't know her name?" Gigi teased.

"Yes, I know her _name_ ," he said, overly sarcastic. "Her name is _Mom_."

She smiled and chuckled softly.

"She's married to _Dad_." Turning serious, he said, "Actually, my dad is Jason. But I'm sure I already told you since we've met before." When she shook her head in the negative, he frowned. "No? That's weird, I usually tell people."

"If your mom's the boss, does that make you the heir?"

He cringed sharply and sucked air in through his teeth. "Watch your language, that's a four letter word at our house."

Gigi's brow furrowed, but she smiled at the same time. "It's a four letter word everywhere." She returned to the reason for his presence, "I haven't met your mom yet, but I'll let her know you stopped by."

"Thanks," he said. "And don't be nervous about talking to her. She's a normal person, just like you and me."

She paused a beat. "How do I know you're normal?"

He considered it. "You don't, and I'm probably not. But I don't get it from my mom, so you're good." He clicked his tongue and tapped his hands on the door frame. "Thanks for passing the message along."

He was gone then, and Gigi was back to her waiting game.

Finally, the editors filed into the room. She knew which one Jennifer Stiles was when they let her sit at the head of the table in the good office chair. She had brown eyes and her ash blond hair was pulled back into a bun. She looked relatively young, possibly still in her forties. The woman listened as the editor got the meeting rolling, taking notes and occasionally asking questions and offering input.

Gigi stuck around when the meeting was finished. She waited for the staff reporters and the editors before she approached the publisher. "Excuse me, Ms. Stiles?"

The woman looked up. "Yes?"

"Your son dropped by before the meeting to say hi. He has an exam, so he can't have dinner with you."

"Oh, darn."

"I'm an intern, Gigi Hayden," she said, her pulse quickening as she held out her hand. This was her big chance. Without thinking she blurted, "I could go to dinner with you, since you were already planning on spending time with a college kid."

Jennifer's brows raised slightly at the suggestion, then she shrugged. "Okay. I'll drive."

They were slowing down to approach a red light when a familiar song came on the radio. It was an old One Direction song, and Gigi felt a twinge of disappointment when Jennifer reached toward the radio right before the chorus. Instead of station change, the music got louder and the woman sang along, " _Everybody wants to steal my girl. Everybody wants to take her heart away_."

Gigi gave her a sidelong look and tried to stifle a grin. She joined in quietly, " _Find another one 'cause she belongs to me_."

"I don't mean to brag, but I saw them twice in concert," Ms. Stiles said when the song was over.

"Me too," Gigi said. "My dad took me." He teased her for liking them. She thought of Jennifer's son, and wondered how strong his loyalties to his little sister were. "Did your whole family go?"

"No, just me and my daughter. But we all go when Tay-Tay is in town." Gigi couldn't imagine going anywhere with both her father and mother. Or her father and sister. Neither combination was a unit of any kind, so much as they were three people floating separately through life and happened to share DNA.

"I should check in while I have the chance," Jennifer said. After a couple taps on her phone, they could hear ringing transmitted over the speakers.

"Sloan Stiles," a girl on the other end answered briskly.

"Uh, this isn't your phone. Did you make sure it was me before you picked up?"

"Yes."

"You sound busy. Hard at work?"

"Yes. I'm working on my geometry."

"Good. Is Dad busy?"

"Yes. He's very busy being weird," Sloan answered.

Jennifer raised a brow. "What tipped you off?"

"He won't let me help him."

"You know you have to wait a few years before you can have your own clients. And then four more years."

"No, his stapler was empty so I tried to fill it for him and he wouldn't let me. He put it up on a shelf where I can't reach it."

"Then leave it alone. He doesn't like you doing office housework." Glancing at the clock, Jennifer added, "You'll be leaving soon anyway."

"Why can't you ever be on my side?"

"Because I'm on Dad's side, so try to get along with him."

"That would be easier if he wasn't out of his Vulcan mind." Sloan added, "I climbed on his chair when he left the office anyway. So he has a fresh row of staples, whether he likes it or not."

"You're quite the rebel," Jennifer said flatly. "Tell him I'll call him at the house later. I'll be back by the time you wake up in the morning."

When the call was finished, Gigi asked, "What's the big deal about staples?"

"Oh, Jason worked at his dad's insurance company since he was a kid, so even when he got older and was a real employee, the older guys never broke the habit of treating him like a kid, always calling him Digger—including his dad. He doesn't want it to be like that for our kids." Jennifer shook her head a little. "But it's not the same for them. Spock and Serek are incapable of talking and resolving things reasonably."

Gigi frowned. "Who?"

"Serek and Spock? They're father and son Vulcans. They repress their emotions and have a very cold, distant relationship. Jason and his dad are the same."

Jason Stiles and his dad sounded a little like Chris and Straub Hayden. Gigi knew her dad wanted a warmer connection with his daughters than he had with his own father.

Jennifer shook her head again. "I'm sorry. I've lived with three Trekkies for too long, I'm starting to sound like one." She muttered, "Our dog's name is McCoy."

They pulled into a parking lot of a restaurant, and Gigi followed her inside and they were seated at a table. She hung her cardigan off the back of her chair and they placed their drink orders. She wanted to ask Jennifer Stiles a few questions that were personal. But this was a professional dinner, so she stuck to business. "How did you start your career?"

Jennifer took a sip of her water. "I worked as a writer for broadcast news after college—in Connecticut for a few years and Seattle for six. Then I came to work for the family 15 years ago. I've been the publisher for the last 10."

"How did you get into journalism?"

Jennifer shrugged. "It runs in the family, it just comes naturally." She asked, "What about you, why are you interested in journalism?"

"My older sister—well, half-sister—is a reporter. She writes features for a newspaper." Gigi quickly added, "But she wants to be a foreign correspondent for an important company, like CNN or The Times. She's Rory Gilmore, so she's great, just really exceptional—the perfect role model." Ms. Stiles didn't interject, so Gigi went on, "She's super smart and nice. She's just really really special—better than regular people."

"Better? How so?"

There was a pregnant pause as her mind froze. These were things she was repeatedly told. She never had to explain it. "Um, she's Rory," she started, feeling strange saying it. She wondered how anyone said it with conviction. She never talked about Rory with anyone, not after she found out she was the forgotten sister. She'd even spitefully claim to be an only child. She felt guilty for it though. She wondered if Rory ever felt guilty for not claiming Gigi. Probably not. It was out of pure innocence that Rory forgot Gigi. "She went to Yale and edited the paper, so that's impressive. And she followed Barack Obama on the campaign trail after college." Gigi faltered again. "She's just, Rory, which is synonymous with perfection."

Ms. Stiles raised a brow. "Is she?"

Gigi had expected the woman to reassure her with a platitude about no one being perfect. "People think she is." She heard it there, slight bitterness.

"What people?"

"My dad—I mean, our dad. Her mom. My mom. Her grandma. Everyone in her strange town."

Jennifer rested her chin on her fist as she listened. "What about you?"

"Me? Oh I'm not perfect. I was a difficult child, really bratty and spoiled, and out of control. I sent nannies running when I was a toddler. Preschools didn't want me. Neither did my mom. My dad didn't raise Rory, and Lorelai only tells him the good things about her, so that's all he knows." Darkly, she added, "Lorelai thinks Rory is more infallible than the pope."

The older woman was frowning and shaking her head. "You misunderstood, I was asking your opinion, do you agree that your sister is perfect?"

"No," Gigi said slowly. "But she could get away with anything and no one will blame her, so it doesn't matter if it's true or not."

"What do you mean?

"She dropped out of college and gave her mom the silent treatment for months and went yacht racing—or whatever that was," Gigi said, swiftly throwing her sister under the bus. "It wasn't Rory. It was her boyfriend's fault—and his family." She crossed her arms and could feel a frown forming. It was happening again, the over-sharing.

"The family, huh?"

Gigi nodded. "It was after her internship at one of your other papers, actually—when the last guy was in charge."

"Ah, I've met him," Jennifer said lightly with a nod. "He gave me the keys to the office, rather reluctantly."

"He wasn't impressed with her. No one is allowed to question her ambitions." Gigi added, "My dad didn't want me to do the internship because the owners are such horrible people."

"I see," the older woman said without disputing it or getting upset. She casually took another sip of water.

"You don't seem horrible to me."

The woman smirked slightly. "Give me a minute before you decide."

Gigi sat nervously when they paused to give the waiter their orders. How long had she been talking? Did she really just ramble on and on about Rory? Why would Ms. Stiles let her get so carried away like that? Gigi was the bad guy here, she was the only one on the planet who wasn't charmed by her sister. The woman across from her probably thought she was crazy.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said all that. My sister is a very good person, and I'm terrible. Please don't tell anyone what I said about her. I'll get in trouble."

"With who, your cult leader? Don't worry about it."

The waiter returned a moment later to refresh their drinks and told them their food would be out soon. Jennifer thoughtfully took a sip of her water and then laced her fingers together, resting her hands on the table. "Okay, so around 1982 is when it started, I think. The kids born after that—their parents started operating under the belief that their precious offspring walked on water and shit diamonds. They could do no wrong."

One of the dark clouds within Gigi just got punctured. The cloud's name was Lorelai. She kept listening, very closely.

"The Rory's of the world have been told they're wonderfully special, and they expected to shine brighter than everyone else."

Gigi's brows furrowed. "The Rory's of the world? But she's so uniquely and singularly special," she said wryly.

"She isn't."

"But she's Rory."

"I'm sorry, but that doesn't mean anything. There are others. They all think they're the main character of an exciting story." Jennifer went on, "They want fulfillment from the careers, not just economic security, and they felt entitled to this immediately—after all, they're so much more special than everyone else. You say your sister isn't where she wants to be in her career?"

Gigi thought about it for a moment. "She likes features, but she's supposed to be the next Christiane Amanpour," she said. "Everybody thought she was robbed when she didn't get to keep reporting on Obama when he won. They confuse White House correspondent with cabinet post."

Jennifer nodded. "When one grows up with this combination of unrealistic expectations for so long, one suffers delusions of grandeur."

Gigi could only stare, speechless. For the first time ever, she felt like someone was telling the truth about her sister, and it wasn't a wagon full of praise. "You're just saying that to be nice."

"No, that isn't something I do. You can Google it and judge for yourself. Generation Y Special Yuppie," Jennifer said. "And something about protagonist. It should spell gypsy."

"She's delusional," Gigi said, trying it out and liking the way it rolled off her tongue. She grinned involuntarily. "Rory isn't special, she's delusional." Lorelai too, and Chris. Now it made sense. No wonder they got so irrational where their precious daughter was concerned. Gigi looked across the table at the woman in awe. "That's Rory. It's like you know her. Like, who she really is."

Jennifer shook her head. "I only know her type. I'm related to some, worked with others. Two of my brothers narrowly avoided this because our parents sent them to military school." She went on, "To my annoyance, this bunch does not care for constructive criticism, which is as good an explanation as any for your sister stealing that yacht when she got Simon Cowell instead of Randy Jackson."

Gigi gaped. "What?"

"Simon Cowell and Randy Jackson, _American Idol_?" Jennifer waved a hand. "I guess you're too young."

"No, the thing about the yacht."

"Oh. Yeah, I don't know how fast they were going, but the Coast Guard was more concerned with the stolen yacht."

"Rory stole a yacht?"

Jennifer tilted her head thoughtfully, squinting her eyes. "Either that, or they sunk it. I might be getting yachts mixed up." She shook her head. "No, it was definitely stolen. They were arrested."

"Rory got _arrested_?" Gigi's eyes were wide. She asked, "How do you know all this?"

Jennifer shrugged, like it wasn't a big deal, when it was the biggest deal in the world. "Family gossip. I'm family, I'm a gossip. I know things."

"You're my favorite."

The woman gave her a strange, modest look. "Favorite what?"

"Person. Ever. Really, you're wonderful."

Jennifer waved a hand. "No."

Disgruntled, Gigi said, "I can't believe this. Lorelai knows all about how difficult I am, but she doesn't tell my dad any bad thing Rory has done. She wants him to believe she got the perfect kid."

Jennifer sighed heavily. "Be honest, how would you describe your relationship with your sister?"

"It's a lot like playing peek-a-boo with a baby." At Jennifer's perplexed look, Gigi explained, "When she can see me she's perfectly nice and friendly." She held her hands in front of her face. "She doesn't know I still exist." She moved her hands and smiled. "How's school, Gigi?" She hid her face. "There is no Gigi."

"Then why are you chasing her unrealistic dream?"

Gigi wrung her hands under the table. The somber tone made her uncomfortable. So there _had_ been a point to letting her go off-topic. She was grateful when the waiter returned with their plates. But Ms. Stiles didn't seem to notice, instead waiting for an answer. "I want—I just—my dad loves Rory so much and thinks she's the best, most amazing person. I'm sick of hearing how great she is and how lucky I am. I don't feel lucky. I feel . . . not as good. I have to be better than her at something."

"That doesn't mean you have to try to _be_ her." Jennifer's head was tilted in concern. "What's your plan here?"

Gigi blinked. "I—I'm not sure."

"What happens if she switches careers and you're stuck doing something you don't really want to do?"

She opened her mouth and closed it. She didn't have an answer.

"Or what if you do get more successful than her, what do you expect to happen then?"

In a small voice, she said, "I haven't thought about it." Gigi was starting to feel very stupid.

Not unkindly, Jennifer pressed, "What are you doing?" When she sighed again, Gigi felt like a huge a disappointment. "Can I share something inappropriately personal with you?" Yes, thank god someone else was offering to take a turn. Gigi nodded. "A few years after I dated Jason we went to dinner. We hadn't seen each other since I moved to Seattle and I had to tell him some big news that affected him."

"That he had a son?"

Jennifer stared. "What? Yes. How do you know?"

"I met him—your son—at a party at school. He told me."

The woman looked concerned and slightly mortified. " _That's_ what he tells people when he meets them?"

"It was my fault."

Jennifer shook it off. "Yes, that's what I had to talk to Jason about. Now, he had just broke up with a woman he'd been dating and it bothered me—a lot—that he liked her so much. I wanted him to like me. He talked about her a little and I _hated_ it," she said. "I could have cried. I felt inadequate—like I surely wasn't as fun or smart or pretty as this other woman. I felt incredibly . . . shitty. I wished he'd like me better. I cannot imagine feeling that way for 20 years."

"A guy and a dad aren't the same," Gigi argued.

"I know, it's different. But Gigi," Jennifer said seriously, as though to make sure she had her attention. "The ex-girlfriend was Lorelai Gilmore."

Gigi was stunned silent. Again. This lady was full of unbelievable bombshells. Her eyes narrowed. "What?"

Jennifer just nodded, a brow raised.

"Your husband dated Lorelai?"

"He did."

"When did he propose?"

"A few years later we dated again. He already had the ring when he asked me to dinner." She smiled and added, "He bought a family car."

"No, when did he propose to Lorelai?"

Jennifer snorted and her smile stretched wider. "Jason? Please."

Gigi was reeling. This didn't make sense. "I didn't think men could ever recover from Lorelai."

"Jason did."

"How?" she asked, skeptical. "You aren't even like Lorelai. I don't mean that as a bad thing."

Jennifer opened her mouth in surprise before backing off. Then, "Special circumstances at that time in his life factored in. And it's probably different with the mother of a man's child."

It seemed plausible, except . . . "Not when the mother is mine," Gigi said quietly. "My dad didn't love my mom because of me. She was just some girlfriend he got pregnant when he was about to have the perfect life with the Gilmore girls. I'm his do-over," she said. "If I was more like Rory, my mom probably wouldn't have left us."

Jennifer's eyes widened in surprise at this outburst, and then softened in concern.

"When your son was a baby, did you ever think about leaving him on his dad's doorstep with a note?" Gigi asked.

The woman tilted her head in consideration. "Only for the comedic potential, but I wouldn't want to miss out on it. It was basically _About a Boy_."

"It's pretty much what my mom did, except they were married. She didn't even try to get us to go with her."

Neither of them said anything for a while. Then, "It is not your fault your mom left. And your dad has two daughters that are different—neither superior over the other. You aren't responsible for his happiness, or your mom's leaving. So, stop it."

"Stop what?"

"This. Stop doing this. It isn't what you want—you still can't give me one reason it is, can you?" After Gig's silence, she said, "I would normally be worried about an intern who only does clerical work around the newsroom—by the way, that's the most common behavior for interns who won't become journalists. But I'm more concerned that you're only going through the motions, no matter what you've been doing at the paper."

Jennifer reached across the table for the articles and folded it in half. "I'm not going to read this, unless you think it over and decide this is really what you want to do. This isn't a secure job, and it won't be fulfilling if you don't have your own reasons for doing it." She added, "Your sister already thinks she's the protagonist of a special story. Don't let her be the main character of yours too."

In a panic, Gigi said, "I can't quit now, they'll think it's all your fault."

"That's okay, I can handle blame."

"But they'll hate you."

Ms. Stiles lifted a shoulder as she put her napkin on her lap. "They already did. It isn't my job to please them any more than it is yours. They just have to deal."

Gigi looked down, her hands pressed together in her lap. "Am I the biggest idiot you've ever met?"

"No, just very immature."

That one cut deep. Gigi never felt more stupid. But she knew it was true. She wasn't five anymore. What was she doing?


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Gigi was back in Connecticut for spring break. She had stayed at school until Sunday night to put off the inevitable discussion with her dad, but she couldn't stall forever.

"So how did the internship go?" he asked over dinner.

"It went well. I fetched coffee and pestered editors to let me write something."

"Good."

She ate a bite of salad slowly. "And, I realized I don't want to work at a newspaper."

Chris put his fork down to focus on her. "What do you mean?"

"I mean it's not for me. I didn't like it very much. And there aren't tons of jobs anyway. So it's good I found out now, this is what internships are for."

He was shaking his head. "No. This is exactly why I didn't want you to do this. Who talked to you?"

"Lots of people." At his impatience, she asked, "What makes you think someone talked to me?"

"Gigi, did someone help you come to this little realization?"

She sighed. "I had dinner with the publisher, and we had a good talk."

Chris shook his head again, and got up to pace. "I can't believe this. I hate these people. Lorelai was right about them."

"It's okay, really. I'm fine."

She shouldn't have been surprised when he hosted an intervention the next day. He tried to play it down when he showed up at the house in the middle of the day and suggested they go out for lunch. It wasn't until they turned down a back road that she became suspicious.

"Where are we going?"

"I told you," Chris said from the driver's seat. "Lunch."

"In Stars Hollow," she said flatly. "This isn't necessary."

Lorelai and Rory were already seated at a table for four in the dining room of the Dragonfly when they went in. Gigi reluctantly pulled out a chair and sat next to Rory.

"Hey Gigi, how's it going?"

"Fine." She silently shifted her eyes to her father to give him an annoyed stare.

A waiter came over with the menus and told them the specials. A few awkward minutes passed as Lorelai and Rory each shared furtive glances with Chris. Lorelai glanced over at her daughter to give her a pointed look.

"Uh, right. So, Gigi," Rory started, shooting for upbeat and determined but landing at stilted. "How did the internship go?"

"Great."

"Really? That's good. Everyone was nice to you?"

"Yes, very nice."

Rory tentatively eyed their father, obviously unsure of how to proceed now that she'd hit a wall. With probing interview skills like hers, it was no wonder she was drawn to journalism. "I heard you got to talk with the publisher one-on-one," she tried again. Gigi didn't say anything, she just nodded and raised her brows to silently question what the point was. "Um, what did you two talk about?"

Giving Rory a taste of her own medicine, Gigi answered, "Nothing, really."

"Come on, Gi'g we won't judge you," Chris said. "We want to help you."

"Help me do what?"

Without prompting this time, Rory said, "Help you stay on track. Is it true you don't want to be a reporter anymore?"

"Yes, but it's not a big deal."

"Gigi, just tell us what that woman said to you," Chris said.

"That's between me and Ms. Stiles."

He frowned. "Stiles? I knew a Stiles. Digger."

"You mean her husband, Jason."

"Yeah, but everyone calls him Digger. Remember him from camp?" Chris asked Lorelai. "He almost got his head shoved in a toilet that one time. God I hate that guy."

Rory shared a glance with Lorelai, and they both avoided eye contact with Chris, leaving Something unsaid. But this time Gigi knew what it was. "Lorelai dated him."

Lorelai quickly looked up at her in surprise and then to Chris.

He scoffed. "She wouldn't date Digger Stiles. I know she hated him, he flipped her canoe." He looked at her. "Right?"

Put on the spot, she floundered for a second. "He was in business with Dad, and Mom hated him!" she said defensively. "It wasn't serious."

"That's true," Rory said. "She didn't even call Grandpa the master manipulator when they broke up."

Chris gaped at her, incredulous. "I can't believe you dated Digger. How did I not know this?"

"You were busy with other things," Rory said pointedly. She had to use a euphemism since 'other things' was sitting next to her.

"No one knew," Lorelai said. "I didn't tell people."

"Now that part makes sense," he said.

Lorelai shifted awkwardly to put her focus back on Gigi. "We aren't here to discuss me. We're here to stop you from making a mistake."

Gigi said, "I don't understand why you're worried. I haven't gone out and done anything stupid, like steal a yacht."

"What?" Chris asked.

Rory opened her mouth and her eyes widened, startled that the truth wasn't safely buried.

"Hey," Lorelai said in a warning tone, leaning in. "No one did anything stupid."

Gigi scoffed and leaned in too. "Stealing a yacht is the stupidest thing I ever heard." She turned to her father and pointed a finger at Rory. "She got arrested."

Chris looked at his older daughter. "I can't believe it. That's not you at all."

"She _had_ help," Lorelai stressed, prepared to fight all of Rory's battles from here to eternity.

Chris shook his head. "I had no idea you were going through all that," he said sympathetically.

Lorelai frowned at Gigi. "You're lucky to have a sister who cares about you so much. We're here because she knows what you're going through, not to _attack_ her."

"Mom, it's okay, she's right," Rory said bravely. "I did something stupid because I believed what an important person said to me. I listened to him when I shouldn't have." She said, "These people—they've deluded themselves into thinking their opinions matter."

Lorelai nodded and tagged in, "They were lucky enough to have someone as incredible as Rory working for them, and they made her feel terrible. That alone should tell you they don't have a clue."

"That's right," Rory said. "Arrogance comes with the job title. Don't make any rash decisions because of some unfounded feedback from someone who doesn't care about you."

"It isn't her job to care about me," Gigi said. "She did me a favor."

"That's exactly what I was told." Rory shook her head tersely. "I knew everyone in that family was the same. I hate her for doing this to you."

Gigi rested her forehead on the table. "Oh my god," she breathed. She lifted her head. "I understand why you're all concerned," she said with forced patience. "But people change their plans in college all the time. It's normal."

"I thought the same thing," Rory said. "Then a few months later, the fog lifted and I realized I'd made a huge mistake to let anyone make me feel inadequate for even a second."

Of course. No Gilmore should ever have to feel that. Inadequacy was for the mere morals. Gigi asked, "You just had an epiphany one day and decided he was wrong?"

"He _was_ wrong," Lorelai said.

Rory nodded. "It just hit me that I wasn't living the life I was supposed to," she said. "I looked around and I was living with my grandparents and planning events for the DAR. That isn't my life."

This was impossible. These people weren't going to let her change her life trajectory. They saw the situation through Rory goggles and couldn't see it any other way. There was no escape. This _was_ a cult, and they were drunk on Kool Aid.

Very gently, quiet even, Rory asked, "Did she tell you that you don't have it?" Without waiting for a response she said, "Because I've read your stuff, and it's good."

Chris lifted a hand. "See? Rory says it's good, and she knows what's good. You don't need to listen to anyone else."

Gigi looked back at Rory to answer, "She didn't say I don't have it."

Rory's expression was blank at first. She opened her mouth, closed it. She looked like a fish. "Oh. Well, good."

Gigi almost smiled. "Exactly how much clerical work did you do during your internship?"

Rory's eyes were vacant, but she looked back at Gigi, perplexed.

"I don't understand," Chris said. "Why don't you want to work at a newspaper anymore?"

Gigi resolved to divulge a bit, "Does anyone find it pathetic that I'm still trying to be like my big sister?"

Lorelai frowned. "Of course you want to be like Rory, she's phenomenal."

 _Don't laugh. Don't laugh. Do not laugh._

"You're the luckiest kid in the world to have her to look up to," Chris added. "You hit the jackpot as far as siblings go."

Rory, accustomed to hearing such false praise, didn't bat an eye. "I admit I was a little worried when you seemed to be pursuing journalism as a career, but like Mom said, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. And if it's what you wanted to do, far be it from me to discourage you."

Gigi stared at her, incredulous. "But I'm over the age of twelve. It's childish." She rubbed her face and looked at Chris. "Can I talk to you in private?"

Lorelai and Rory shared another look and got up, scurrying out of the dining room.

Gigi didn't say anything for a long moment. Her father waited patiently, while eager to hear whatever it was she had to say. She contemplated how to best vocalize her feelings. "I am not just like Rory," she finally said slowly. "I only try to be to make you happy."

He frowned at her. "What?"

"It makes you so happy, but I've been faking it—the coffee, the books." Her eyes got glassy. "I can't be Rory. I'm not her."

Chris stared at her, now concerned. "I had no idea you felt that way. I know those are pretty big shoes to fill."

She fought the deep desire to roll her eyes. "And I've been trying a little too hard to fill them. This is too far. I'm not the one who wanted to be a reporter, Rory is. And it made you so happy, and I really want to make you happy."

He said, "I'm sorry, I never meant to make you feel like you couldn't be yourself."

"I just, I never thought it was fair you got stuck with me—the imperfect daughter."

His eyes softened. "I've always felt it was unfair you only have me."

She quietly said, "I was never disappointed with you." She asked, "Can we just go? Please."

XXX

Francine Hayden entered the sunroom with a tray of sandwiches and tea. She placed it in the middle of the table so they could share. Gigi picked up a tuna sandwich and took a bite. Slowly, she said, "I have some news."

"Oh," Francine said with a concerned frown. She put down her tea. "What is it?"

"I'm not going to work at a newspaper after college."

Her grandmother's brow raised. "I thought that's what you wanted to do." She'd never been thrilled about it, but always kept quiet.

Gigi sighed and shook her head. "Not anymore. I just wanted to make Dad happy, and imitating Rory was the best way to do that." She continued, "But I'm not doing that anymore."

Francine nodded curtly. "Good." She was the only one, until now, that never thought this was cute. "It's about time you stop." Then she asked, "What made you change your mind?"

"I talked to Jennifer Stiles, she's the publisher where I did my internship," Gigi said, summarizing what the woman had said. "And I think she's probably right."

"Thank goodness. I could never say anything, it would upset Christopher." Francine narrowed her eyes in thought. "Now Jennifer Stiles is a Dugray, I think."

"Yeah, do you know her?"

Francine nodded. "The Dugrays, I know from Princeton alumni events. And Rory's grandfather worked with Floyd Stiles at the insurance company, of course."

A few vague thoughts swam around Gigi's mind. Spock and Serak. Chris would have worked with Richard Gilmore, but he'd be discontent. Sloan Stiles chipperly answering the phone, she could have clients in seven years.

Francine added, "They don't live far from here."

Gigi's heart lept. "Really?"

"Yes. They're all from Hartford."

"Do you know where they live?"

Francine held up a finger and got up. She went deeper into the house, and Gigi heard a drawer open and close. It was a few minutes later when her grandmother returned with a slip of paper, handing it over. Gigi looked down at the address, then at the time on the nearest clock. She could go there—to their house—this evening. She could tell Jennifer in person that she was taking her advice. She slipped the leaf of paper in her back pocket for later.

"What do you think you might like to do after college?" her grandmother asked.

"I'm not sure," Gigi answered. "But something realistic, and secure."

Francine looked approving. "That's smart."

Gigi left her grandmother's house feeling much lighter. She pulled out the address to the Stiles house and typed it into an app on her phone to see how far away it was. She made the drive and stood in front of the two story house. She walked up to the door and pressed the bell, waiting anxiously.

The door swung open, revealing the only member of the Stiles family whose name she still didn't know. Something inside of her flopped. His face easily lifted to a smile. "You found me?"

"I, um—I came to talk to your mom, actually." Her mouth twisted, unable to hold back a smile. She flirted, "You living here too is just bonus."

He smirked, but then it fell. "How's the guy?"

"Guy?"

"From the party?"

"Oh. He was just some guy. He's gone now."

He nodded. "Interesting."

"I'm actually taking a hiatus from boys."

"Oh. That's . . . smart." That was the consensus for the day. He looked behind him at the sound of a dog padding towards him, and pulled the door closer so the opening was small. Blocking the way from a giant brown animal that wanted to see who was at the door, he said, "Bones, no. Stay inside."

Gigi took a step back. "Whoa. Is that a horse?"

He looked back at her. "It's a dog—a bullmastiff."

"I thought the dog's name was McCoy."

He nodded. "Yeah. Dr. Leonard McCoy . . . Stiles."

"Then why do you call him Bones?"

"What else would we call him?" he asked. "He's not perfectly behaved like our old dog, Sirius. Sirius was one good dog, may he rest in peace."

"Did your sister name Cyrus?"

He shook his head. "No, why?"

"Miley Cyrus?"

"No, Sirius, like dog star. The perfect name for a dog."

Gigi's forehead scrunched up. "You mean like _Sirius_ Black, who turned into a dog?" she asked, pointedly pronouncing it 'serious'. "Why are you saying it wrong?"

The Stiles boy shifted his weight from one foot to the other and put his hands at his waist. "He already had a name when I met him."

"Okay. Uh, so, is your mom here?"

"No, she and my dad went out to dinner."

"Oh, okay. Well, I should go," she said, turning slightly.

The boy reached out, as though to grab her. "Wait, are you doing anything now?"

"No."

"Let's walk."

Gigi looked out at the sky, which was clouding. It looked like it would start to rain any minute. But the boy either didn't notice or didn't mind, fitting a black hat with a mean looking bird on his head. He pulled on a black jacket with a Princeton tiger emblem on the breast and zipped it up, then twisted around to yell inside the house, "Sloan, I'm going out for a little while." Facing her again, he said. "Come on."

Slow thunder rolled ominously and Gigi eyed the clouds as they started down the sidewalk. The sky continued to darken as they walked away from the subdivision, towards businesses in a newer part of town. When they walked by a clothing store whose sound system played out on the sidewalk, Gigi paused to listen. It was Justin Timberlake. "Ooh, I like this song."

The boy stopped too, and started bobbing his head, watching as Gigi gracefully did some ballet moves to the hip hop beat. He started to bop around her, with the cheesy awkward dance moves only a white guy could pull off. It thundered again, and big drops started falling from the sky. They came down slow at first, and then fell in earnest, but the two of them continued dancing.

Gigi was smiling at him when the music stopped. "You have some good moves."

"I know," he said with a smirk. "Yours aren't bad either."

"Thanks. I wonder if I can still . . ." She trailed off, taking a deep breath and concentrating. She slowly lifted herself onto her toes, then raised her arms and left leg until it was perpendicular with the ground. She held it for as long as she could—about two seconds—and lowered herself, letting her breath out. "I can still do it."

He stared. "So that's . . . a thing you can do."

She grinned and turned to continue walking, ducking her head. Far from perturbed by the rain, her companion looked content. He pointed up ahead. "We can go in here, so you don't rust."

Squinting through the drops to look up at him she asked, "Why would I rust?"

"Like the Tin Man, he rusted when it started to rain. People always say melt to reference the witch but that was from a bucket of water."

Gigi argued, "If a bucket of water melted her, then we can safely assume rain would do the trick too."

"Yes, but rusting like the Tin Man is more accurate."

Her brows furrowed and she poorly stifled a chuckle. "You're weird."

The corner of his mouth quirked up. "That's what they tell me, so it must be true," he said, leading her into the cafe, where it was warm and dry. "Do you want something?"

She checked the beverages on the menu behind the counter. "Hot chocolate." She took out a few dollars to hand him, which he ignored as he turned away to order. She found an empty table for two and sat down, taking off her wet jacket.

He joined her with two mugs, sliding one over to her. He took a sip and said, "I'll start drinking coffee one day when I grow up. I'm sure it'll taste really good by then."

She sipped from her own cup and shook her head. "It won't. If you have to drink hot brown water, it might as well taste like chocolate."

"Mmm," he said, nodding his agreement. "So are you from here?"

She shrugged. "Sort of. My dad says we're from Hartford. But I was born in Boston. We moved here when I was three."

He pointed at himself. "My parents say the same thing. But I'm from Seattle. If I argue, one of them says something gross about how I was made in Hartford."

She was quiet for a moment. Then she said, "Your dad dated Lorelai."

"Who's that?"

"My sister's mom. If she married your dad she would have been your stepmom instead of mine," she said.

But he shook his head. "I don't think so. My dad is Jason."

"So?"

"So, he's slow. It took him three years to realize he liked having a family." He shook his head. "No stepmom for me."

Like his mother, he seemed sure. Gigi wasn't convinced yet. She asked, "Were you ever mad you didn't know your dad until you were three?"

"No," he said slowly. "I was still really little when I met him. I know he wasn't always there, but I can't remember that."

She nodded once. "My mom was around until I was two, allegedly."

"I just remember being very happy to get a dad." He was hesitant at first, then decided to say, "It's probably easier to forgive someone who came to say rather than one who left for good. Are you mad at your mom?"

She averted her gaze. "Anger is a useless emotion."

"That's logical." He lifted his mug to his lips and muttered, "Not really an answer to the question."

Gigi decided to change the subject, not wanting him to think she dwelled on this stuff all the time. "Are you a Trekkie?"

"I thought that was established." He leaned back and crossed his arms. His brow raised slightly in defiance. "Before you make any clever 'beam me up, Scotty' references, you should know Captain Kirk never said that. I'd hate for you to look ignorant when you mock me."

Her lips sealed shut, she restrained a small smile. "I won't mock you for liking what you like."

"Thank you," he said, uncrossing his arms and taking another sip. They were both quiet for a minute. He glanced out the window at the rain and commented, "I'm moving back there, to Seattle. After graduation in a couple months."

He was a senior. And he was leaving. The disappointment slowly settled in, all the way down to the pit of her stomach. "Oh." She blinked a couple times. "To do what?"

"I got a job at Google, they have an office there."

"Congratulations."

"Thanks. What about you? Do you want to be a reporter or something?"

"Not really. I was going through a phase and your mom called me out," she said. "I don't know what I want to do, but I have a couple of years to figure it out."

They sat together until they were finished with their hot chocolate and decided to leave when it didn't look like it was going to let up outside. The walk back was just as wet, with an added evening chill. Gigi planned to take a hot shower as soon as she got home. She slowed down to a stop when they got to her car, rather than accompanying him to the front door.

"Did you still want to talk to my mom?" he asked.

Gigi looked up at the house. "That's okay. She'll figure it out when she doesn't hear from me."

"Okay." He continued to look down at her. He opened his mouth to say something, but didn't at first. Then abruptly, "Xavier Stiles."

"What?"

"My name, it's Xavier Stiles. It takes the mystery out of things, but that was a deal breaker for you," he said quickly. "That's understandable, mine is Patriots fans—which makes me nervous since you're from Boston. But you can lift your leg above your head, so I already decided to let it slide this one time." He stuck out his hand. "So, Xavier Stiles, and you are?"

She blinked, too stunned for a moment. She answered, overly truthful, "I don't know."

He wasn't expecting that. His shoulders fell an inch. "Oh, well, let me know when you find out."

She quickly took his hand to shake before he could drop it. "My name is Georgia. I go by Gigi."

"Like the model?"

"Yeah, but Hayden, not Hadid."

"Close enough." He looked up at the house and then turned back. "Well, bye Gigi." She said good bye and opened her car door, when Xavier turned back on his way up to the house, his palm facing up, helplessly. He called out, "If you're ever in Seattle . . ."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Gigi didn't know why she was here. She just saw a sign posted in the dorm about dance team tryouts for the following year, so she came. But now, with the music blaring, and all the other girls and guys in their workout clothes who looked like they knew what they were doing, she was doubting herself. Ever since she'd danced on the sidewalk in the rain with Xavier Stiles, she realized how much she missed it. It reminded her of some of the other girls in her dance classes when she was younger. A few would break off to work on their own project, usually to pop or alternative rock. They'd wear black and let their hair down to flip around as they danced. It was edgier and a little provocative. It also looked fun. Gigi never joined them. She didn't have time for fun, she had a mother to impress, and only en pointe classical ballet would do.

When the song ended, the first group of dancers cleared the floor for the next group. Duffle bags were tossed on the floor and the crowd Gigi had been amongst moved to the center of the floor. She hesitated, watching everyone else.

"Are you in or out?" the dance instructor called to her.

Startled, Gigi glanced over. "Uh, in," she said, dropping her bag and joining the others. They faced the instructor, who would teach them the dance they needed to know for the audition at the end of the week. Gigi looked at the front of the room, her image with the other dancers reflected at her. The mirrors, the wood floor, the leotards, the general feeling of competition in the air. The familiar surroundings were comforting.

When the music started, Gigi struggled to keep up. She was at least a half a beat behind the whole time. She was out of practice and her body had forgotten how to move. After all, she'd decided to come tryout on a whim. When the music stopped, she was out of breath and starting to perspire. They did the routine two more times through, and by the last time, she was finally managing to get the hang of it. She had four days to get her groove back, as it were. She needed all the time she could get, and probably needed to hit the gym, too, to get back in shape.

A week later she went back to the performing arts building where the auditions had taken place. She'd practiced hours in front of a mirror, just like she had when she was younger. By the end of the week she was sore, but pushed through the pain to make it through her audition. She'd spent two days waiting for the results, rubbing her aching muscles.

She walked into the building behind some other anxious dancers waiting for the results. Over and over, she told herself it didn't matter if she didn't make the cut. It wasn't like she was going to be a professional dancer in any capacity. She wasn't even trained in this kind of dance. It was just something she wanted to try, so she wouldn't regret it later. It could be fun, but okay if she didn't make it.

Gigi found a bench along a wall to sit on while they all waited. When the results were posted, a crowd quickly formed, followed by jubilant cheers from the lucky ones, disappointed head hanging from others. She watched the others for a while, waiting until the crowd dispersed before she slowly got up with a deep breath and walked over to the bulletin board.

There must have been some mistake. Her name was on the list. That couldn't be right, didn't they know she hadn't danced in five years? It was there though, listed alphabetically.

Gigi smiled as her heart started to thump quickly with pride in herself. She snatched a copy of the rehearsal dates from the board before checking the list again, making sure she hadn't imagined her name. This was just hers, no one else's.

She left, feeling very happy.

XXX

She allowed herself a few months of leisure, not thinking about what she was going to do with her life. She floated around the pool and got a tan. A gap year would be very European, she knew. Even Malia Obama took one. But Chris had already taken a couple of gap decades. Gigi felt like she needed to work all the harder to compensate. And a little voice inside her head said she had to graduate on time. After all, Rory still managed to do so, even after a semester off. She reminded herself she wasn't doing that anymore, comparing herself. But old habits . . .

Rory did reach out to Gigi at the beginning of the summer. It was always a rare treat when that happened, as it wasn't a regular occurrence in her life. Gigi could remember large swathes of time where she and her dad didn't hear from Rory. As much as two years at a time could pass by without seeing her, like when she was on the campaign trail after college. So it used to be a big deal when she did visit. Now that her shine had worn off, it was less exciting.

Gigi did have some questions for her big sister, since she was here. She wanted to know how she'd spent her time off from school. Apparently, not doing much.

"Oh, well, like I said, I was in the DAR. I worked in the office as the secretary and planned functions," Rory said. They were sitting at a cafe and she had gotten them each a coffee, her treat, and proceeded to not notice her little sister didn't touch hers.

Gigi asked, "What else?"

"Uh, I hung out in the pool house with my boyfriend, when he had time. He was still at Yale."

"But you thought you weren't going to be a journalist, did you try to figure out what you should do instead?"

Rory, flustered, stressed, "I was really lost. And I had a lot of community service hours—from stealing the yacht. That took a lot of my time."

"Didn't you try to find yourself at all?"

"I wasn't _lost_ -lost, more like I just lost my _way_ , more than myself. I always knew who I was, the problem was letting myself believe I needed to change, when I didn't need to change anything at all. I just needed to get back on track," Rory said.

How nice, to simply remember how perfect one always was and would remain. Did she at least read _Eat, Pray, Love_?

Rory added, "It didn't help that my grandma led me down a path that wasn't me. That was her life, not mine."

Gigi rested her cheek on her fist, elbow propped on the table. "Sure," she said, a little flat. Of course. It was the sorcerer, Von Rothbart, who cast the evil spell on the innocent princess.

What a waste, Gigi thought. The conversation wasn't very fruitful. She was a little sad for Rory. For all anyone knew, she had some hidden talent that would remain unrealized while she tried to attract attention from 'those idiots' running The Times and CNN. Just like Gigi trying to win her parents' unconditional love and affection. Rory needed to learn that some dreams were meant to be left behind.

Maybe this was just another way the two sisters were fundamentally different. Gigi was always striving to be better, Rory was told her entire life that she'd already arrived. Gigi never felt good enough, it was the world's job to notice how good Rory was.

Gigi spent a lot of time thinking about the things Jennifer Stiles said to her. She thought about secure jobs, the kind she'd never even considered before. The kind people maybe wouldn't expect a young girl to be interested in. When she was younger, she remembered how some of the kids in her class wanted to grow up to be famous. Famous doing what, they didn't seem to know or care. They just wanted to be known. Gigi thought they were stupid. People didn't just get famous because they thought they deserved to be. But maybe she shouldn't have judged them, her plan was to be a ballerina.

Francine had been hinting not so subtly all summer that Gigi would make a wonderful lawyer. But this would just be more of the same—making up for her father's disappointments. Chris's parents wanted him to follow Straub's footsteps at the firm. Gigi already gave Princeton to her grandma. She thought that was enough. Besides, she didn't want to spend an additional three years in school.

This also ruled out the medical profession.

Law wasn't the only field her father hadn't gone into when he was young. There was the insurance company, where Lorelai was sure he'd be unhappy. Sloan Stiles apparently hadn't gotten the memo on that one.

Gigi returned to school in the fall, as usual. She decided to stay on at the newspaper, but dropped the self-inflicted pressure to be so aggressive. She had no aspirations to lobby for the top editor job this year or the next. She just picked up stories here and there, the ones no one else wanted to do, even if it was out of her comfort zone. For once, she endeared herself to her fellow reporters rather than alienate them.

Both semesters she took classes about various subjects—anthropology and architecture, history and political science. She'd abandoned French class for Spanish when she was in high school. Now she tried German. She took an art class, mostly because it seemed requisite for a journey of self-discovery. They were all interesting, but she wasn't as zealous about any of them as the students who planned to have careers in those areas. She didn't load up too much on math and science classes beyond what she was required to take. She wasn't trying to be like Rory anymore, she felt no need to start in on April Nardini. She joined a choir class in the spring, and left each session feeling lighter and happier than she'd anticipated.

XXX

It was summer again, right on schedule, and Gigi was driving back to Hartford. She was planning on a pit stop when she drove through the city. She had this one idea that occasionally passed through her mind. She considered it enough to do something about it.

She arrived in New York by late afternoon, and went into a tall office building with whatever confidence she could muster. "I'd like to see Jennifer Stiles," she said to the receptionist behind the large front desk.

"Do you have an appointment?" the woman asked as she reached for papers on her desk and stapled them together before adding it to a large stack of packets.

"Uh, not exactly."

"Then I'm afraid you can't see her."

"Could you please call her office and tell her Gigi Hayden would like to speak with her?" she asked.

The receptionist sternly looked over the rims of red framed glasses before grudgingly picking up her phone and dialing an extension. "I'm sorry to bother you, but there's a Gigi Hayden here who'd like to see you." She glanced up at Gigi again. "Fine." She hung up the phone. "She says you can go up."

Gigi smiled triumphantly and thanked the woman before going to the elevator.

Jennifer was on the phone when Gigi knocked on the door, which was slightly ajar. The woman behind the desk glanced up and waved her in. She pointed at the chairs in front of the desk, so Gigi took a seat.

Jennifer shook her head and frowned as she pointed her pen on her desk calendar. Speaking to the person on the other end of the line, she said, "I can't that night. Sloan has mock trial and I'm going to it." She relaxed back in her big office chair to listen to the response, then said, "I'm sure you missed lots of your kids' school functions because of work. And how did that work out for _you_?" The corner of her lips quirked up, apparently winning the argument. "Mm-hmm, bye." She sat up, lacing her fingers together on her desk. "I love working for family. I know about all the skeletons in their closets. How have you been?"

"Good, I've been good," Gigi said. "Finding myself and all that."

The corner of Jennifer's mouth lifted again. "So what can I do for you?"

"I've been thinking—about different careers, and I was wondering, does your daughter want to work in insurance?"

"Sloanie? Yeah, taking other people's money has always appealed to her. And I wasn't about to stop her. There are always jobs."

Gigi asked, "That's not normal for a young girl, is it?"

"It's not normal for any kid. It's just their father's company." Jennifer added, "Although I wouldn't call kid or father normal in this case."

"My dad would have worked there, with Jason—when he was, uh, young and needed a job. But then he didn't. So it could have been my dad's company, too. And I could have been like Sloan. That is, if I even existed in that alternate life."

"Wow," Jennifer said. "When you go on a journey of self-discovery, you take it back a generation."

Gigi shrugged. "Haven't my parents' choices affected me?"

"Touche." Jennifer reached across the desk to take one of her business cards from a stack and picked up a pen. After writing a phone number on the back, she handed it over. "Here. Jason can answer any questions you have about jobs, if you really want to look into it."

Gigi glanced down. "Thanks. Is he the boss too?"

"No. We have a very strict one executive officer per family rule. But he does have pull."

She put the card in her purse. Then, "Oh, I almost forgot," she said, pulling out a few paper clipped sheets of paper.

"Clips?" Jennifer asked.

"Yes, not mine. Those are a couple people who write on the paper with me. They're serious about journalism, and they're pretty good. I think they deserve internships—if you have any open."

Jennifer's brow raised. "Do they?"

"Yeah." Gigi's shoulders dropped. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take advantage of you or anything. I just thought I'd pass on their names while I was here."

"No, it's okay, this is what connections are for. I'll look through these." Jennifer looked back at Gigi. "Have you ever considered joining the Junior League?"

Gigi frowned. "Is that like the DAR?"

Ms. Stiles rocked her head back and forth. "Yes and no. You don't need special lineage to join the Junior League. The DAR mostly deals with historic preservation and patriotism. Our focus is community improvement, we volunteer a lot. Basically, they're America then, we're America now. If you know what I mean."

"Uh, sure."

"I don't mean to make it sound like one is better than the other, they're both respectable organizations. Do I think we could take them in a rumble? Yes."

Gigi grinned.

"Both do charitable work," Jennifer said. "There are a lot of working women in the Junior League, so inevitably, we network. Maybe you should look into it." She gestured at the clips Gigi brought her. Was that networking? She was just trying to help out a couple of her peers.

"Uh, okay. I'll think about it."

"Good." She added, "Just give Jason a call sometime. He can answer whatever questions you have."

Gigi's questions weren't all job related though, or appropriate. She liked Jennifer Stiles, and worried about her. Was she and Xavier really any different from Sherry and Gigi?

XXX

Gigi walked through the doors of the Hartford office building and went to the receptionist's desk. With a quick buzz to the employee she was there to see, she was given directions and headed down the hall. Jason Stiles was behind his desk, reading something on his computer. He had dark hair like Xavier's, and was wearing black framed glasses. He looked up when she tapped on the door.

"Hello," she said, shaking his hand and introducing herself.

"Have a seat," he said, gesturing to the chairs in front of his desk. He was average looking, probably wouldn't be considered a hot dad at his kids' schools. Which wasn't to say she liked thinking of her own dad that way. But Rory told her it was their burden. It was kind of creepy. "I think I know your dad. Chris Hayden?"

"Yes. He said he knew you from camp when you were kids," she said. "Did you really almost got your head shoved in a toilet?"

He nodded once, cringing slightly. "Yeah, but I did heckle him at a fireside skit when he sang."

Gigi blinked. "What?"

"I was being obnoxious, so I kind of had it coming."

She sat dumbly for a second. " _He_ was the one who tried to give you a swirly?"

Jason shuffled some papers on his desk and glanced at her. "Mm-hmm."

"But he can't sing. At all. He is literally the worst singer in the world," Gigi protested. It appeared Chris didn't take well to criticism. And here everyone thought Rory only took after her mother. She shook her head. "I am so sorry."

He waved a hand. "It's okay, I was faster. I got away," he said. "So what can I do for you?"

"I wanted to talk to you about your job. Did you always want to work in insurance?"

"I don't know, probably not. It was my dad's company."

She reiterated for him, "My dad almost worked with you. Did you know that?"

He nodded. "I remember."

Now knowing how the two mens' paths crossed in their youth, she wondered how that would have gone. "But then he didn't because he would have hated it. So I was wondering, do you hate it?"

"Hate what I do? No." He shrugged slightly. "I've always liked my work. Even when I left my dad's company, I didn't want to do anything else."

"It hasn't sucked the soul out of you?"

The corner of his mouth twitched a little, amused. "No. I make a good living and I've traveled all over. It makes me feel important—call it a character flaw, but I like to feel important."

"Okay, so what kinds of jobs are there?"

"There are some different things," he said, launching into a list of jobs and a brief description of what each was responsible for. "I'm good with people, so I advise people on how to protect their assets and I sell them a contract. The best way to learn the business is to start out answering service calls. My daughter started doing that last year. She fields questions from clients and brokers."

Gigi asked a couple more questions. "I'll be home for summer, could I apply for an internship?"

"Sure, just ask the receptionist for an application."

This seemed like a good stopping place, she'd gotten all the answers she needed. She should get up and thank him. Shake his hand and leave. She remained seated.

"Is there something else?" he asked with a frown at her prolonged silence.

"Uh, no, that's all," she said, still not moving. He raised a brow, since she looked like she wanted to say something. She did want to, but she shouldn't, she couldn't. It was way too inappropriate. Then she blurted anyway, "Do you think you're settling?"

Puzzled, he frowned. "Settling for what?"

"Jennifer and your kids."

"No," he said slowly. "In fact, I think they're settling for me, so if we could keep that between us, I'd really appreciate it." Seeing her genuine concern he asked, "Why do you ask?"

"You dated Lorelai."

"Oh. So?"

"So, surely you wanted to be with her instead."

He shook his head. "It's never crossed my mind." She narrowed her eyes in disbelief, so he asked, "That was years ago, why would I?"

She was quiet for a moment, and looked down at her hands. "My dad passed up his big chance to be with them because of me," she said. "Lorelai and Rory will always be his fantasy of the perfect life, or, the way things were supposed to be. Didn't she tell you?"

"No. We didn't talk about your dad. She didn't bring him up and I didn't ask." He added, "It wasn't my business."

"Well that's what happened. I was his second chance to do better, but he still idealizes Lorelai as the perfect woman. How are you any different?"

"I don't have the history with her that your dad does."

"So? It's still _the_ Lorelai Gilmore," she said glumly.

"We had irreconcilable differences."

She ventured a guess, "You wanted to be with her but she didn't want to be with you?"

He tilted his head. "I could have dropped the lawsuit against her dad if I wanted to be with her that badly." He paused. "I didn't. I couldn't, he destroyed my career. Lorelai wasn't very sympathetic to my plight, and then she moved on with Duke. I couldn't stay here anyway." He added, "We were at an impasse and both had to walk away."

Gigi blinked. "Who's Duke?"

"That guy in her town, she went to his diner all the time."

"You mean Luke?"

"I think he's related to Duke."

She shook her head. "I don't think so."

"Then who is he?"

"There is no Duke."

"Are you sure?" Jason narrowed his eyes and tilted his head in thought, still confused. Then he shook it off. It didn't matter.

Gigi squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. "That's a convenient story, but what if you weren't destroyed and broken up? What if everything was perfect and exactly how you wanted it, and then boom, here's your kid?"

"If everything was perfect then Jenny wouldn't have come for another three years," he said easily, as though it was a prepared answer. "What if I still worked for my dad? What if Jenny told me she was pregnant when she got to Seattle? What if she was in a serious relationship when she told me about our son?" he asked. "You could spend all day down in that rabbit hole. It doesn't matter. What happened, happened, and here we are."

"I guess that's true," she said.

"Listen, it's not a great feeling to realize just how inconsequential you are to someone," Jason said. "So, no, I can honestly say I haven't fantasized about Lorelai after we parted ways. Life went on." For good measure, he added, "Jenny cared when no one else did. It was incredibly endearing. And she was smart enough not to let me settle for her."

Gigi's skepticism faded now. She could still remember the sting when she found out Rory went through life claiming no siblings. Being inconsequential to a Gilmore girl was a crappy feeling. It did not endear Rory to her. "I'm sorry," she said. "It was inappropriate to ask."

"It's okay."

She finally stood up and thanked him, and he reminded her to stop at the receptionist's desk. Gigi stopped when she got to the door and turned back. "Is it true Emily Gilmore hates you?"

"Yeah, she does," he said with a nod. "Why?"

"She hates me too. Maybe we could get shirts." They shared a grin before she turned to go.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Gigi surged to the surface of the water and took a breath of air as she wiped off her face. Her heart pounded from having held her breath for so long. She squinted in the bright sunlight and looked out at the sparkling water. She lifted herself up to sit on the side of the pool, her thighs warm on the concrete while her calves still hung in the water. She sat for a few minutes before getting up to towel off. When she was sure she wasn't going to drip all over, she went through the patio doors, immediately hit by the cold from the air conditioner. She tied her towel at her waist as she walked into the kitchen to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

The door to the garage opened and her dad walked in. He sat his briefcase on the counter before he peeked over her shoulder. "Hey kid, could you make me one of those?"

She sighed heavily, like it would be a big inconvenience, but grabbed another plate and two more slices of bread. She slid the plates across the counter and poured him a glass of milk before taking her seat next to him.

"Are you ever going to stop calling me that?" she asked as she licked some strawberry jam off her finger.

"What, kid?" he asked.

"Yeah. I'm not a kid."

"You're only 21, you're a kid. And you'll always be my kid." Chris looked at his sandwich with a frown. "This tastes kind of funny."

"I used natural peanut butter. And I made the jam, it was really easy. Just frozen berries with a little water and natural sweetener."

"That's the problem, there's no sugar."

"I'm going vegan." When he dropped his head with a pained noise, she added, "Just for a year, to see if I can do it."

"A whole year without any sugar?"

"Or animal products. Sugar isn't good for you anyway." She gestured to his sandwich. "You get used to it."

Somewhat miserably, he took another bite.

She gave her father a sidelong glance. She knew he'd spent some years meandering, and lived in California for a time before returning to the east coast in his 30's. She finished chewing, then asked, "How did you manage to get a decent job when you couldn't hold one down for so long?"

Chris frowned, not expecting the blunt question. "What do you mean? I applied and interviewed."

Skeptical, she asked, "Your bad track record and sketchy resume didn't hold you back?"

He relented, "Okay, I called in a favor from a teacher from one of the prep schools I went to."

"The one school that didn't kick you out?" she guessed.

Ruefully, he said, "Yes, as a matter of fact."

"I'm not judging you," she said. She meant it too. He'd been young and confused. He was a 17 year old kid who wanted to do the right thing with a girlfriend who didn't want help with anything. Lorelai assumed Chris wasn't grown up enough and decided for everyone what to do. Maybe he could have risen to the occasion if he had been included in the special bubble. But what happened, happened. And here they were.

Whatever his failings in life, Gigi knew her dad provided for her, made sure she had what she needed, and sent her to good schools. He wanted to spend time with her when he got the chance. He wanted her life to be better than his. Gigi didn't mind that he wasn't the perfect dad, she wasn't the perfect daughter. Still, it did take him an awfully long time to lead an adult life.

"Why didn't you want to go to college and get a job when you were my age?"

He glanced at her, frowning slightly. He didn't answer immediately, thinking back to a younger version of himself. Then he lifted a shoulder. "I had my whole life in front of me, I didn't want to be trapped in a corner office, just some corporate stiff having the life sucked out of me. That was my dad's thing, not mine. There's a big world out there and I wanted to see it." Chris chewed the last bite of his first sandwich half. "And I don't know what your grandma has been telling you, but I wouldn't have made it through Princeton, even if I had gone." He shook his head. "I wasn't cut out for Ivy like you and Rory."

Was she really cut out for it though? She had worked hard and crossed her fingers when she sent in her application. She didn't go around talking like it was a given that she'd get in. That would have been an embarrassing disappointment if she didn't. She supposed it didn't matter at this point. She did get into Princeton. She was attending, and she liked it there. It wasn't the worst thing in the world, to go to the best school in the country.

"I've been thinking," she said slowly, stalling by eating another bite of her sandwich. "I'm going to do another internship."

"Oh yeah, where?"

"At an insurance company," she said nervously.

"Insurance?" Chris said, an amused smile turning to a chuckle.

Gigi felt her face flush and she tossed him a brief scowl. "Remember how mad you were at Jennifer Stiles when you thought she made me feel bad about my career choice?"

"Yeah."

"Well right now _you're_ making me feel bad." She could only imagine how people would react if Rory had the same idea. She's surely be praised for making such a brilliantly practical life choice. There would be proclamations that she'd be running the place in no time. "I used to say I wanted to be a ballerina and no one thought anything was wrong with that."

"You were six. It was cute."

"Well I'm not six anymore. It isn't cute, or realistic."

He lifted his hands in surrender. "Hey, I'm sorry. No, if that's what you want to do, then go for it. It's just . . . weird."

"Really? We live in Connecticut. Insurance is kind of our thing." She went on, "I know it isn't sexy and glamorous like some other jobs, but I could make a living. I want to try it out, see how it goes."

"Money isn't an issue," he reminded her. "I want you to do what makes your happy."

"I don't think 'follow your passion' has to be career advice. I want to get a good job, and earn a living, not live off your money." She added, "It would make me happy to be a contributing member of society before I'm 35."

She said it more pointedly than she'd intended, and he noticed. "You're saying you don't want to be me."

"Well. Kind of. No offense."

He nodded down at his plate. "That's . . . not the worst idea."

She got up to put her plate in the dishwasher and was about to go up to her room to change, when she turned. "I'm thinking of joining the Junior League, too."

He lifted his head to look at her like she was crazy. "The _Junior League_?" Dryly, he asked, "Do I need to get you some pearls?"

Gigi rolled her eyes. "I knew you would see this as a negative. It's weird, sometimes it's like you think it's the 1960's," she said. "Look around Dad, it's not."

Before she escaped the room, he said, "Hey, you really want to stay in Connecticut?"

She stopped to face him again. "Where else would I go?"

"I don't know, I just wanted to get as far away from my parents as I could get when I was younger." He asked, "You aren't trying to get away from me?"

She lifted a shoulder and shook her head. "No."

XXX

It was evening in the office, and it was just Gigi and Sloan Stiles manning the phones. There was usually someone else around to supervise, but sometimes it was just the two of them. Sloan wasn't very chatty, only talking to Gigi to answer an occasional question. The other girl had been working here for a year already, so she knew more. Gigi used all her down time to read up on the company's different product lines so she could competently answer questions.

Without a word, Sloan got up and left the office. When the phone at her desk started ringing a minute later, Gigi picked hers up and pressed a button so she could take the call. "This is Gigi Hayden."

There was a long pause on the line. "Who?"

"Gigi Hayden."

"As in, Georgia Hayden?"

"Uh, yeah."

"How?" he asked slowly. "I'm not sure what happened. My dad transferred me to Sloan." He added, "Thank you, Dad."

"Oh, Xavier," Gigi said, recognizing his voice with a little thrill. "Sloan stepped out—I'm not sure where. She doesn't tell me her whereabouts. Her phone rang, so I took the call. I thought it was a client. Sorry."

"No, no, it's okay," he said. "What are you doing there?"

"Working."

"Working?"

"Yeah. I'm trying out insurance. It was either this or Vegas showgirl. This seemed like a more viable option."

"I bet the costume isn't as good though," he said.

She grinned. "That's what you think. I happen to be wearing a headpiece right now," she said. "If they like me I could get a job here after I graduate next spring."

"The headpiece should get you bonus points," he said. It sounded like he was smiling. "So you're Sloan's new trainee she told me about. I had no idea it was you."

"I am not her trainee." Gigi shook her head and glancing at the door where Sloan disappeared. "I ask her questions sometimes when there's no one else around. She's basically indifferent to me—a lot like my cat." She added, "Then again, I never gave my cat a name, so maybe I set the tone there."

"Like the mascot," Xavier said approvingly.

"Mm-hmm." It was confirmation that Princeton was the right school for her, when she found out they never got around to naming their pet cat either. Her dad thought she needed to make pro/con lists to be sure she chose to the right place. Gigi wasn't going to let a list dictate where to go to college when she already knew where she was going. It was no problem, she just made sure the lists gave her the outcome she wanted. She wondered if Rory ever did the same, or if she really couldn't make decisions. Then again, perhaps poor choices could be blamed on the lists.

Xavier said, "Sloanie just likes to think she's in charge of something, or someone."

"Well she isn't in charge of me." Then she asked, "How is Seattle?"

"It's good, things are good. I like it here, and my job is awesome," he said. "Hey, what's your email address?"

"Gahayden at yahoo."

"The abbreviation for Georgia, clever."

"No, Georgia Ann."

"Oh, in my mind your middle name is Rose."

"Yeah, I've wished it was."

Under his breath, he sang, " _And we danced all night to the best song ever_." Then he said, "Gmail is better, by the way. You should think about switching."

"I'll get right on that," she said, smiling. She clicked over to her email when an alert popped up. "So you're perfectly happy way over there in Washington? I guess you have no reason to come back east very often."

"I have some reason. Family beckons, so I oblige a couple times a year."

"Really?"

"Really."

"How lucky for Connecticut." He sent her a YouTube link. "It's a cat video?" she deadpanned, pressing play.

"No, better. It's Kitten Academy."

Gigi watched for a moment. "It's just a room with cats playing?"

"Yeah, playing, sleeping. Live streamed 24 hours a day."

"I had no idea there was such a thing." She watched for a minute. "Well, now my life is complete." She giggled. She typed in the YouTube search bar and copied the link into a reply message.

"What's this?" he asked upon receiving it. Then a moment later, he hissed, "What is this? Is that you?"

"Yes. I, uh, started dancing again. Last year." She added, "I tried out for one of the dance teams at school. And I made it somehow."

"You're a ballerina," he argued. "This doesn't look like ballet."

"I know, and that's not Tchaikovsky in the background, either. But a lot of technique was transferrable. It's been fun."

"That is really fantastic to hear," he said, seemingly still engrossed with the video. "Are you wearing a cat suit?"

"No. Just all black."

"You look like Black Widow."

"Is that goo—" The other blond girl returned to the office then. Gigi glanced up and stopped mid sentence, immediately guilty for goofing off. "Oh, here she is. I'll transfer you."

"Wha—?"

She pressed a button and hung up her phone. Sloan glanced at Gigi suspiciously before picking up after a single ring. "Sloan Stiles." She grinned at the sound of her brother's voice as she sank back down in her swivel chair. "I'm glad you called. My laptop has been running a little sluggish, so I just need you to come take a look at it. Next weekend works for me." She pouted at the answer. "I don't need the Geek Squad when I have you." She clicked a few times on her computer. "I've been saving some emails I wasn't sure about. Like this one from the FBI. It's the Monetary Crimes Division and they want me to confirm an inheritance. What should I do, in your professional opinion?" After a pause, she argued, "But it says I'm the beneficiary of millions of dollars . . . Fine, I'll delete it, but don't try to hit me up for money later. Now this one is from royalty. He's from Nigeria."

Gigi listened to Sloan pester her brother with the contents of her spam folder, wondering what Rory would do if Gigi ever tried to annoy her on purpose.

"Okay, but wait," Sloan said, smiling. "This one has a link! Should I click it?"

She talked for a little while longer, sharing a snippet of family gossip before ending the call. Jason appeared at the door shortly thereafter. "Are you ready to go?" he asked his daughter, holding out car keys.

"Yes."

"Did you get to talk to Xavier?"

"Yeah. He said he was at work, but it sounded like someone was playing a video game in the background."

Jason nodded. "He was at work."

Sloan sighed as she tidied her workspace before she got up. "Must be nice." She accepted the keys and passed her dad out the door.

"Bye, Gigi. See you tomorrow?" Jason asked.

"Yeah, good night."

XXX

Gigi carefully swiped mascara on her lashes and then smeared some light pink gloss on her lips. Her makeup boycott ended some time when she was 18. Some pointless teenage rebellions couldn't last forever. She was just careful to only invest in American made cosmetics. When she was finished, she checked her image in the mirror. Jean skirt with black leggings and a black top. She reached for an orange scarf from her dresser and put it on. It had capital P's printed all over. It was festive.

She had a date tonight. It was a big football weekend at Princeton, homecoming, and one alumnus was persuaded by his uncle to come home for the festivities. It was a good a time as any for Gigi to suspend her hiatus from boys. She was putting her shoes on when there was a knock at the door. She came face to face with Xavier when she opened it. He grinned at her as she let him in.

"Hi."

"Hi."

They'd continued their cross country flirtation through sporadic phone calls at work over the summer, and the occasional email. _Let's go out for dinner tonight_ , she'd read with a grin as she walked to class. _Pick me up at 8_ , she'd respond.

Her cat lazily walked into the room, looking at Xavier with disinterest.

"That's my roommate." Gigi had been friendly with everyone on her floor back in the dorms, but she wasn't close enough to anyone in particular to make housing plans. So she got an apartment near campus and brought her cat to live with her.

"He's neutered," she said. "It's college, so I want him to have fun, but be safe."

Xavier chuckled.

She pulled on her jacket. "Are you ready?"

He looked at her intently. "Almost." He tilted his head and leaned in toward her until their lips met for a moment. When he pulled away, he said, "Sorry, I've been thinking about that for a while."

"Oh, well then." She lifted herself to her toes and pressed her lips to his again, sliding her hands to the back of his neck.

His hands were at her hips when they stopped to look at each other. "Okay, dinner?"

"How was the game from your seats?" she asked when they were at a table at one of his favorite restaurants near campus a short while later.

"It was exciting. We have very good seats."

"I was with the dance team, I sat next to one of the girls who could explain why the game kept stopping." She asked, "Did your whole family come?"

He shook his head. "It was just my uncle Tristan's family. And they brought my grandpa." Xavier looked up from his menu. "Tristan met his wife, Savannah, at Princeton. He came back from military school in North Carolina and wooed the first southern girl he could find."

Gigi grinned.

"She's a Rhodes Scholar, so we don't always know what she sees in him." He added, "I used to have a crush on her."

Her smiled widened. "I didn't know people really sent their kids to military school."

"They do in my family—two uncles and four cousins. Tristan's daughter, EllaMae, is probably safe, but she's only nine, so we'll see. I think he had Knox and Yates on the waiting list since they were in preschool."

The waiter brought them drinks then, and she took a sip. "My grandma knows the Dugrays from alumni events," Gigi said. "I come from a very long line of Princeton men, except my dad."

"I do too," Xavier said with a nod. "Although I come from more lines of Yale men, except my dad."

"Mine didn't go to college at all."

"Oh yeah, mine too."

She frowned at him in open disbelief. "Really?"

"Well, no, Harvard. But, same difference."

She made a sound in her throat and shook her head with a half smile. "My dad has perfected the art of disappointing his parents."

"Does he have siblings?"

"No, why?"

Xavier shrugged. "Multiply it by four. My mom had a baby out of wedlock, my uncles Spencer and Tristan got into so much trouble they were shipped off to military school, and my uncle Brody never went back to Princeton for his senior year. Three of those things happened in the same year."

She shook her head. "Amateurs, all of them. And your mom married your dad—successfully."

"Yeah, and Tristan and Spencer made it through Princeton, and Brody made a fortune in Silicon Valley. So everything turned out fine." Xavier added, "Your dad raised you, and you turned out okay."

"That has yet to be determined."

They went to a movie after dinner, and ended the night strolling through their college town. When their knuckles brushed together as they walked, Xavier took her hand, his fingers lacing into hers. She felt a dopey grin on her face form, as though she was in middle school and holding a boy's hand for the first time.

"You must not go on many second dates," she said as they walked up to her building at the end of the night. He'd taken her to a cemetery.

"We have Aaron Burr buried out there. That's cool," he said. "Talk less, smile more."

"You're a dork."

He smirked. "Earnestly."

She smiled up at him.

They had a goodnight kiss in front of her door, and then another, until they were making out, her arms around his neck and his hands circling her rib cage. "Well, I guess this is goodnight," Xavier said, though he did not let her go. He kissed her.

She pressed herself back to him. She held on to stop him from letting her go. "Wait. Have you ever seen _Swan Lake_?"

"No."

"Well, there are these two swans," Gigi said. "Princess Odette is the perfect one—good and caring and innocent. She's under a spell that turns her into the white swan."

"Okay."

"And Odile is the evil witch, or evil sister, depending on the production. She's the uninhibited, mysterious seductress, and pretends to be Odette in the third act. She's the black swan."

"Sure."

"I tried so hard for a long time to be the good little white swan everyone wants. But I was pretending. That isn't who I really am."

"You're not?"

"No. I'm the other one."

"The mysterious seductress?" he asked hopefully.

She nodded. "Do you want to come inside?"

"Oh." He blinked. "Yes." As she led him inside her apartment, he said, "I need to see more ballet."

XXX

"And this is Nassau Hall," Gigi said, stopping with her mother in front of the large ivy covered building. She paused for a moment, then slowly started to move along. It was a pretty spring day, nice for an outdoor ceremony.

"Now wait a minute," Sherry said. "You've been rushing through the whole tour. Slow down and tell me some things about the building. I want to know all about it."

"It's Nassau Hall, it's . . . old."

"Georgia, I'm serious," she said impatiently.

Gigi sighed. "Fine, it's the oldest building on campus. A couple cannonballs hit it during the Battle of Princeton. Legend says Alexander Hamilton shot a cannon through the window and it decapitated the portrait of King George II." She pulled her cellphone out to peek at the time. "We should really move on, there's a lot. And I have to be there, in my cap and gown in two hours."

There'd be more time for this if her mom hadn't waited until the last minute to come see her school. But here they were, taking a tour at the eleventh hour. She'd gone to school and lived here for four years and this was the first time her mom made it across to pond to see it. Gigi hadn't exactly extended an invitation though. She didn't want to ask Sherry to do anything she didn't want to do.

"You're always in such a hurry. Ever since you were born," Sherry said. "Your dad said Rory told him the history of all the buildings and benches when she gave him a tour of Yale."

"Then go to New Haven and have Rory give you a tour of Yale, if that's what you want," Gigi snapped. "This is my tour of my school."

Sherry focused in on Gigi, a frown forming. "I came a long way for today," she scolded. "I'd appreciate it if you adjusted your attitude."

Gigi couldn't believe her. She knew exactly how long the trip was, she'd made it several times to visit her mom in Paris. She was always the one who went there. Sherry may have wanted a ballerina, but couldn't be bothered to come to the recitals. She made a point of making sure Chris recorded them all, sure. That wasn't the same as being there.

Gigi exhaled heavily and turned away, shaking her head. She glanced over to FitzRandolph gate. She walked in as a freshman and would finally get to walk out of it later that day.

"Let's move on. I'm not going to be late for the ceremony. I _wrote_ it _down_ ," she sneered. The time for a long languid tour was four years in the past. Now was too late. Gigi was finished.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"So when do you think you'll be back?" Xavier asked, sprawled out on his couch.

Gigi had collapsed on top of him as they caught their breath and let their heart rates return to normal. She was here, in his city, for work.

"Are you a mirage?" he'd asked when he saw her earlier that day when he got off work and saw her sitting on a bench, waiting.

"No," she answered. "I thought about calling. But then I thought I could just . . ." She glanced behind him, the company's colorful name displayed on the building. "Google you."

The corner of his mouth lifted. "You can Google me anytime. What brings here?"

"Work. I'm on a business trip. A company we insure had a fire in their warehouse."

"That's terrible," he said, grinning.

She nodded over to the co-workers he'd exited with. "Were you in the middle of something?"

"Oh, no. We were just going over to Amazon to see if we could find any of the employees crying in their cars. But I can do that any time."

He'd taken her out to dinner, where she regaled him with her duties as an adjuster. She'd already been to Dallas and Chicago earlier that year. He explained computer programming. They skipped the movie tonight, instead going straight to his place.

"I don't know," she answered. "People don't usually plan their accidents. That's kind of the point. But I'm going to Portland next month to check out a playground their Junior League chapter built. We're going to build one in Hartford."

A pause. "You're in the Junior League?"

She nodded. "Mm-hmm."

"That was a preppy life choice." He pulled a blanket off the back of the couch to cover them up.

"Well I did graduate from Princeton a few months ago. It seemed like the logical next step."

"I'll come down, if you want."

"Portland isn't too far?"

He shook his head. "Not too far."

She snuggled into him. "Okay."

"Here, we can still see a movie," Xavier said, stretched his arm out toward a small remote on his coffee table. "Can you reach that?"

Gigi stuck her arm out without real effort. "No," she answered.

Xavier adjusted so he could reach it and he turned on the TV and went to his digitally stored movies. Her eyes wandered around his living room, now that she had a chance. He had a great view of the city from the large window. There were tall bookcases on both sides of the television, many of the titles being biographies.

"You're really into old dead guys," she commented. Her book collection consisted of some of the classics she'd held onto and some erotic romance novels. Rory didn't know what she was missing.

He glanced to where she was looking. "Well, once you start with the founding fathers, you kind of have to keep going to see how it turns out. One generation's problems don't magically go away, and the character crossover appeals to me," he said. "Plus, one story's side character is another story's hero. It's all in the point of view. No one thinks they're the bad guy." He glanced at Gigi. "Usually."

She firmly press her lips against his, catching him off guard.

Dazed and befuddled, he asked, "What was that for?"

"Just, because."

He handed over the remote. She accepted it and started browsing. "Do you own every superhero movie ever made?" she asked, passing over _The Hulk_ and _Iron Man_ , sequels included.

"No. I've always been more of a Marvel man," Xavier said. "The Justice League is okay. But Superman really rubs me the wrong way."

"Why?"

"He's too perfect to be interesting. He has no flaws or weaknesses—Kryptonite hardly counts. He has so many over the top superpowers that he'll never lose a fight." Just getting started, Xavier went on with his monologue, "The guy's an alien, so he has the potential to be complex, but he isn't. There's nothing personal motivating him to do what he does—he's good, so he does what's good. That's it. He never learns a lesson or has an arc where he overcomes an obstacle or conflict. He never needed to, he was already perfect. It's okay if Lois gets killed, he'll just _rotate the earth_ to turn back time." Xavier finished, "No one can relate to that. I don't give a crap about that hollow steel automaton."

Gigi kissed him again, to which he blinked rapidly, like before, surprised but not unpleasantly so. After a pause to look at him, her lips crashed into his again, for a longer and deeper kiss.

"I don't even know what I'm doing right," he said. "If you like my Superman soliloquy, wait till you hear how much I _do_ relate to Iron Man. He's a techno genius philanderer billionaire playboy. We're a lot alike."

She smiled and giggled. "Sure."

He switched over to Netflix and found _13 Going on 30_. "When it's over I'll explain why Mark Ruffalo is the best Hulk."

"Okay." She kissed him again.

His hands found her hips and she maneuvered to straddle him once more. "But the movie can wait."

XXX

Work sent her back the following spring. She was there for three days for business, and since it was the end of the week, she extended her stay over the weekend.

The country between them actually served as the perfect buffer. Xavier would never have to know she was terrible at relationships.

She woke up in his bed Saturday morning, though he wasn't beside her. She stretched her limbs and curled back up, snuggling with the blanket around her. Xavier was in the corner of the room, standing at a whiteboard on an easel, on which he was writing out a long algorithm. He'd pause now and then, picking up a legal pad and frowning back and forth between it and the whiteboard. He tossed the pad back on the dresser and used a cloth to erase one of his lines of work.

"Oh, thank God you finally noticed that," Gigi said. "It was bothering me."

He froze to glance over at her with a smirk. He laughed lightly before turning back to his work. "Don't get any ideas about leaking this to Apple." He fixed his error and stood back again to take another look. "Better?" he asked.

She pondered the fresh ink for a moment, as though she understood what it all meant. "Much." At the sound of a meow, she reached for her phone on the floor next to the bed.

"That must be your cat."

Gigi grinned. "I hope he wasn't driving." It was her dad, wanting to know if she was available to hang out. Now that she was an adult, they could be pals. She used to be more cynical, assuming his only motivation was to replicate the bond Lorelai and Rory had. Maybe he did wish they could be like that, or maybe he just didn't have many friends and just wanted someone to hang out with.

She replied that she was out of town and could get together for dinner Sunday night when she got back. She tossed the phone down and asked Xavier, "Are you ready for your dog, or are you having second thoughts?"

He shook his head. "I'm ready."

"It's a big step, to be responsible for another living thing." He was getting an Italian greyhound. He missed having a dog.

"You have a cat," he reminded her.

"Yeah, but he's pretty self-sufficient. I just have to fill his food bowls and keep his litter box fresh," she said. "I've been gone for three days, and I can guarantee he does not care."

Xavier smiled. "Well my dog is going to be so happy when I get home from work every day. I'm going to name him the marquis de Lafayette," he said. "George Washington had greyhound-like dogs and Lafayette was puppyish, so it makes a lot of sense in my head." He stopped to eye her. "That is, unless you still hate all things French. In which case, I'm also partial to Hercules Mulligan."

She considered him a second. "I won't hate your dog's French name. I'm not that petty."

He raised a brow. "Your bag of Estée Lauder products suggests otherwise."

"That's different. My mom didn't leave me for France, so much as she left and remains there for cosmetics companies that happen to be Paris based. It makes a lot of sense in my head."

He liked to take her to Seattle specific sights while she was in town. Today they went to Top Pot Doughnuts. The shop smelled like pastry and coffee when they walked in. Even she knew this must be Gilmore heaven. When it was their turn at the counter, Gigi was overwhelmed by all the options, there were over 40. "I'll have a ring with raspberry glaze."

She found a table by the window while Xavier paid. He took the spot opposite her, sliding her plate over to her and picking up his own bar with chocolate icing. He also had a cup.

"Coffee?"

He nodded curtly. "I'm going for it."

She took a bite of doughnut and watched him take a sip. "Well?"

"It's not the worst thing I've ever had to drink."

"What was?"

He took another drink and grimaced. "Nothing is coming to mind. I don't understand why I don't like it. I live in Seattle. I'm an adult."

She licked some raspberry filling from her lip. "Why don't we say man-child and call it a compromise?"

He sipped again. "It's just, ugh. I'm going to drink this whole cup. Maybe I'll acquire the taste by the time I finish."

"I'm not going to place any bets," she said. "I think it's endearing that you're the only one in the city to not like coffee."

He sat down the cup and went back to his doughnut.

Gigi looked around the shop and sighed heavily. "I'll be right back." She went back to the counter and asked for a box and started naming off doughnuts to add—glazed, sugar, colorful sprinkles, pink coconut, chocolate old fashioned with glaze and without, and a couple cake doughnuts for good measure.

Xavier watched her with a curious frown when she brought the box back to the table. "I checked today's schedule, and we don't have time for you to lose a foot and go into a coma."

"They aren't for me. I'm going to ship them to Rory and Lorelai."

"Your sister."

"And her mom," Gigi confirmed. She wondered which Gilmore girl to send them to. Whoever got them in the mail would probably devour them before the other got there. She had intended for them to share. She shook her head, this wasn't going to work. She went back to double the order and had a couple bags of coffee beans thrown in.

"We're going to have to go somewhere to have these shipped," she said when she sat back down.

"I didn't think you were very close to them."

"I'm not. But I know they would love this place and it would make them happy to get doughnuts in the mail. If I don't send them some, I'll feel guilty and just a little spiteful," she said. "Although, I'd love to see the results of their wellness screening."

He considered her for a moment. "She's lucky to have you for a sister."

Gigi tried to remember if anyone had ever said that to her before. The words were said, many times, but never in that order.

While they ate their doughnuts, Xavier asked, "When were you en pointe?"

Raising a brow, she asked, "How do you know about en pointe?"

"I stumbled across a documentary about Misty Copeland," he said. "Ballerinas are athletes. En pointe came up. Isn't like a rite of passage?"

"Yes," she said. "I was 11. I wanted to be the first one in the class, but I was second. It's the goal for all little ballerinas." She remembered how happy she was to declare to her dad that they needed to go to the special en pointe shoe store. She also recalled how eagerly she'd told her mom about the accomplishment, getting her hopes up for something that wouldn't happen.

She felt stupid just thinking about it and changed the subject, "We found some land in Hartford that will be a good place to build a playground. We're going to put in a bid."

XXX

"He likes you," Xavier said later, his new dog in Gigi's lap, licking her face.

"I probably smell like cat, what's not to like?"

It was a rescue dog, not a puppy, though he had explained that they mature slowly. And the dog was so small, he may as well have been a puppy.

"He's definitely a Lafayette." Xavier rubbed the dog's head affectionately. "Hey, next time you're hanging out with my mom, you should ask her to rap Lafayette's part in 'Guns and Ships.' She'll nail it. But then she'll do all of Jefferson's parts too. Worst case scenario, she might suggest a rap battle with the DAR."

"She sounds like you after you've been drinking," Gigi said. "Does her rapping devolve into a diatribe about how Aaron Burr wasn't a villain, even though he was a pompous Princeton guy? Or is that just you?"

He grinned. "Aaron Burr _was_ a pompous Princeton guy. Google it."

They went back to Xavier's apartment and let the dog loose. The newly christened Lafayette ran from room to room, checking out his new home.

"Where do you think he's going to make first?" she asked. "Is your closet open? Five bucks says it's going to be in one of your shoes."

"My closet is shut." Then he thought about it for a second, his lips pressed together in a line. "I'll go check." He came back a moment later. "It was shut."

Gigi picked up the bag of dog food. "You have to put this where he can't get it, or he'll eat it all and get sick."

"I've had a dog before," he said dryly.

"I know, I just wanted to remind you that dogs aren't as sophisticated as cats. My cat only eats when he's hungry and knows when he's full."

"I bet he doesn't know any tricks though."

Lafayette trotted back into the room and barked once at his new master, apparently feeling left out of the conversation.

"What's that trick called?" she asked.

"Canis interruptus, I thought that was obvious." He picked up the dog. "Iggies don't bark much, you'll probably never hear that again. Unless I get serious about that canis interruptus trick." He put the dog back down. Then he asked, "Ready for your surprise?"

"A surprise for me?"

"Yes," he said, going to a kitchen drawer and taking out two tickets and sliding them over to her on the counter.

"What's this?" she asked, picking them up and reading Prokofiev's _Romeo and Juliet_. "Ballet tickets?" She looked up at him, a near scowl on her face.

"Yeah, I thought you might like to go."

"Why?" she asked, flatly. She thought about earlier, the memories of being a naive kid with a dumb idea fresh in her mind.

Sensing that the sky had suddenly darkened, casting a shadow over them, Xavier reticently said, "Since you were dancing again, at school."

"Not ballet."

"I know, but I thought you were, you know, over it."

"Over what?" she asked rhetorically. "That I spent _11 years_ dancing, like some idiot, to get my mom to come back just to fail spectacularly? Thanks for reminding me." Gigi could see the panic in Xavier's eyes. "I only did it because she wanted a perfect little ballerina." She could hear how crazy she sounded, but couldn't make the anger go away. Before she knew what she was doing, she was heading for the door.

She was sure she heard him mutter, "You need therapy." It stung, not wanting it to be true.

Gigi went back to her hotel room, where she fumed for a while. Then she broke down and cried a little. She was still mad—mad at her mom for leaving, mad at herself for trying to get her back. And unfairly mad at Xavier for making her remember how angry she still was. Her ballerina days were a long drawn out act of desperation. It was embarrassing. Who tries that long to get the attention of someone who doesn't want you? And why did she tell him about it? She should have keep it private.

She swallowed hard and dried her eyes, telling herself to buck up. She pulled out her briefcase and flipped through the paperwork. She'd already handled all the work she came to do by Friday at five. She worked efficiently when she was in the Pacific Northwest, to maximize play time with Xavier. She couldn't believe he bought ballet tickets. What kind of guy voluntarily went to the ballet?

A good guy. A good weird guy who had finally figured out why she was on an extended relationship hiatus.

She did miss dancing after she quit, though she had denied it. Sports took discipline too, and was definitely cathartic. But it wasn't the same.

She missed going to the _Nutcracker_ before Christmas every year with her dad and grandma. It was their holiday tradition, until it wasn't anymore.

She thought about looking for something on TV when there was a knock at the door. She glanced through the peephole and saw Xavier standing on the other side. Surprised that he had come after her, she opened the door.

"You forgot your stuff at my place," he said as greeting.

"Oh," she said. He hadn't come for her. He didn't want her junk sitting around his apartment. Her heart sank. She looked around him. "Where is it?"

"I just said, my place." He sounded like he was putting effort into staying patient, while agitated by her irrational tantrum. "You're only here until tomorrow, so can you come back? We can stay in and you can still be mad at me. Just be mad in the same room."

He still wanted her around? Why? She blinked a few times. "I'm sorry I got mad," she said. "I guess I still have some residual bitterness there, bubbling under the surface. I'll go to the ballet."

"We don't have to."

"No, really, let's go. It's been a long time since I've gone, and I want you to see _Romeo and Juliet_. It's a good one."

"Yeah?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

He gestured toward the room. "Get the rest of your stuff, you can check out."

XXX

Gigi collapsed on her couch when she got back to her Hartford apartment Sunday afternoon. She needed to unpack her suitcase and get ready for work tomorrow. But she remembered she was having dinner with her dad.

Her cat was lying on the floor next to the loveseat. "Hey kitty," she said.

The nameless cat looked at her slowly and blinked in acknowledgement. Why did she have a cat? She already had a mother and sister who happily ignored her existence, why had she picked a pet with the same disposition?

"Maybe I should get a dog instead." The cat's ears perked up. "Yeah, you heard that, didn't you?" She took her phone out of her pocket, texting her dad that she just got in.

Gigi sat her phone on the lamp table and looked down at her cat, who had walked over and was rubbing up against her legs. "I know you're just marking your territory," she said flatly, picking him up and petting him. "You must be smelling the very friendly dog I met this weekend."

The cat purred.

"Oh, so you're hungry. Come on, let's see if we have tuna." She got up and went to the kitchen, the cat trotting along. With a glance at the food and water bowls on the floor, she saw the levels were getting low. She opened a can of tuna, and before she could turn around, the cat was concentrating on the countertop, getting into a pounce position. "Don't do it."

The cat jumped up on the counter.

"You know you aren't allowed up here. Can you just be patient?" She scooped him up and placed him back on the floor before dumping the contents of the can into his food bowl, where he chowed down contentedly.

She went to answer the door when her dad rang the bell a short while later. "Hey Gi'g," he greeted warmly with a wide smile. "I brought you something." He had a plastic cup with a light brown iced beverage in each hand.

"What is it?"

"A chai latte. I figured you were the only one in Seattle who didn't want coffee, so I thought you might like this as an alternative." He handed her one. "Here, try it."

She took a sip. It was spicy and sweet and creamy. She took another sip. "It's good." She sipped again. "I think I like it."

Chris smiled. "I can't believe you've never had one. I used to drink them all the time when I lived in Boston."

"With Mom?"

"Yeah."

She was about to ask if Sherry drank chai lattes too, but stopped. Would that mean Gigi couldn't like them too? It didn't matter what her mom did or didn't like. It was pointless to go in the opposite direction. It was immature. It was stupid. And she was in her mid-twenties now, not her mid-teens. The only person she was hurting was herself with this behavior.

She contemplatively drank some more. The ballet Xavier took her to had been beautiful, breathtaking. That's what the difference was, she figured out. Ballerinas might be athletes, but ballet was an art. Words couldn't express the beauty of _Romeo and Juliet_. She hadn't taken enough time to appreciate it for what it was in all those years she danced. It was just a means to an end.

Maybe quitting dance because she was mad at her mom was just as stupid as doing for her in the first place.

"So what's for dinner?" Chris asked.

"Oh, I thought you were coming to cook for me," she said with a small smile.

"Do you have some of that nutritional yeast? I feel like some vegan mac and cheese." He'd been a good sport when she cut all animal products out of her diet, even though he wasn't thrilled at first.

"No. We can use real cheese." She went to her pantry and pulled out a box of elbow noodles.

"What's this?" Chris said, tapping printouts on the refrigerator.

"Grocery lists and meal plans," she said. "I'm going to do a clean eating challenge."

"Clean eating?"

"Yeah, I'm going to start it next Saturday. It's two weeks, but I'm going to do it twice and make it last a month."

"I don't know where you get your discipline from," he said.

She pulled a pot out from the cabinet and eyed him. "Me neither." She received a rye look but no protest. "Why don't you do it with me?" she asked. "Not just when you eat with me, but for every meal. No cheating."

"Two weeks?"

"Yes."

He looked at the meals. "You get to eat meat?"

She nodded. "And lots of vegetables." She added, "You have to cook all your meals. We can go grocery shopping together next week."

"All right," he said. "I'm in."

"Good," she said with a smile.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Chris sliced a few pieces of turkey and put a couple on the plate Gigi held up and then some on his own.

"Thank you," she said, setting her plate back down and filling the rest of it with vegetables and a roll.

It was just the two of them at the house this year, since her grandma had officially moved to warmer climates all year round.

After her plate was full and she'd started in on the meal, Gigi asked, "How was your date the other night?"

"Eh, it was okay."

She speared a few green beans. "Just okay?"

"She was nice enough and we had a pleasant time." He was silent for a minute as he scraped a forkful of turkey through his mashed potatoes and gravy. Chewing, he rocked his head back and forth. "She just wasn't . . . I don't know. I'm not sure that we really connected."

Gigi sighed. She knew what that meant. He didn't think they were compatible at some superficial, trivial level. She didn't like the right music or movies. Or he made a dumb reference she didn't pick up on, and he thought that kind of thing was important. It meant his date wasn't Lorelai.

It was so frustrating. He might actually like someone out in the world if he'd drop his idea of Lorelai being the one and only perfect woman. "I think you should go out with her again. Give her another chance," Gigi said.

"I don't know," he said doubtfully.

"You can't expect a love connection after one date. Sometimes it takes longer."

He gave her a perplexed look. "Since when are you an expert?"

"I'm not. I just think you're expecting too much too soon, and it isn't realistic or fair."

They ate in silence for a minute, then Chris said, "You're the young, twenty-something girl. Who are _you_ seeing these days? You haven't brought anyone to meet your old man in a long time."

"Work keeps me busy. There isn't anyone around here to bring, anyway." True enough, if not at the moment. Last year Xavier took her to New York for shopping and ice skating at Rockefeller Plaza under the big tree. They were just going to watch Christmas movies while she put up her tree this year.

Deflecting, she went on, "I worry about you sometimes. I'm all grown up and out of the house, Grandma is in Florida now. And when was the last time you hung out with friends?"

Slightly exasperated by the question, Chris thought about it. "I guess it's been a while. But I'm out of town a lot for work." Ruefully, he said, "Thank you for pointing out how pathetic I am."

"Sorry," she said. "I just, don't want you to be lonely. Maybe you should get a pet."

"I'm fine, you don't have to worry about me."

They ate some more, and got seconds. Gigi changed the subject, "I'm turning my second bedroom into a dance studio."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. I called up my old ballet teacher, Michelle—remember her?"

"Which one was she?"

"She gave me the beads when I behaved."

"Oh right, I remember her, she was nice."

"She was, so I asked her a couple months ago if she would be my teacher again, and she could. So she's been giving me lessons once a week." Gigi added, "I'm going to to dance en pointe again, eventually."

"Mm, I can't wait to go to the en pointe shoe store again."

She grinned. "Me too."

XXX

Later that day, she sat at the end of Lorelai's couch, watching a holiday special. Lorelai and Rory's presence was so sought after, evening was the only time they could squeeze in their own Thanksgiving dinner with Luke and April. Gigi rested her cheek on her fist, the silent observer. An outsider. That family member one forgets about the rest of the year and then invites to the holiday gathering out of obligation. They'd all pretend it wasn't weird for Gigi to be here.

Lorelai had put her old television set and VCR back in the living room after Chris and Gigi moved out. But the old technology hadn't held up, and she finally had to break down and get a flat screen TV and blu-ray player. Other than that, the living room looked remarkably unchanged. Lorelai didn't even rearrange the furniture much. Waspy of her. There was a fishing magazine and an outdoorsman catalogue on the coffee table that must belong to Luke, and yet, Gigi had never figured out if he actually lived there or not. She used to jealously wonder if April got to have Rory's room. It wasn't just a room, it meant inclusion into the Gilmore realm. It didn't matter, either way. It wasn't like Rory bestowed any more sisterly affection on April than she did Gigi.

Luke's nephew, Jess, had joined them today, too. His attendance in Stars Hollow for holidays was as spotty as Gigi's. But she knew who he was, or at least, the little Rory was willing to share. It was only because of an incident when Gigi was nine that Rory was forced to admit they had history. They had been caught by April in a compromising position upstairs at the diner.

"You and _Jess_? Oh my god, how did I not know about this?" April had asked excitedly.

"What were you doing with him?" Gigi wanted to know.

"They were, uh—kissing," April said hastily.

Gigi gave her a hard stare. She had not wanted the answer from April, a girl she'd met once. And she was still a little confused by the new people. Was Jess April's brother?

Rory downplayed it, only divulging that they dated senior year of high school. It hadn't worked out though. He was troubled and needed to sort some things out for himself.

"But what about now, what does this mean? And you getting back together?" April asked. She was strangely fascinated that her brother, or whoever, and Rory had romantic ties. "Oh my god, I cannot believe no one told me."

Rory didn't answer any questions, or say much more about it. She just changed the subject.

It was years later that Gigi worked out that Rory hadn't been kissing her old high school boyfriend. They screwed around sometimes. It made a lot of sense. They had shared family in Stars Hollow keeping them connected, so it was inevitable. Sometimes Rory got lonely and sometimes Jess was around. He was a convenient old flame waiting in the wings when she wanted someone to turn to. And the Gilmore girls, with their magical golden vaginas, or whatever it was, ruined other women for their exes. Most of the time.

Thinking about who she'd spent her day with, Gigi noticed a common theme amongst them all. Three people had unintentionally made a kid with someone they didn't want to be with. The rest of them were the products of those unions. Except Jess, she didn't know his story. As far as broken families went, this one was broken the same way over and over. The lack of variety was strange.

"So how's the insurance business?" Rory asked, peeling an orange she'd been rolling between her hands.

"It's really good, busy," Gigi answered. "I've been traveling a lot."

"Oh, where?"

"Just in the United States."

"When I was traveling on the campaign bus with Obama, I never got to see much of the cities I went to," Rory said, eating a section of the fruit. "I was always in my hotel room, writing. I know it was the same for my grandpa, when he traveled for work."

"I can see the city if I make time." Gigi added, "I've learned three languages, so I guess I should think about going into the international division."

"Cool. That's what my grandpa did. You know, he once told me I could work in insurance if journalism didn't work out. He was impressed with the way I negotiated for him to pay for Yale."

Gigi averted her gaze for a moment before humoring her with a nice smile. "I'm sure you'd be great at it."

Rory stood. "Is anyone thirsty? I'll get us some drinks."

"I'll help," Gigi said, not wanting to be left in the living room with Jess and April.

There wasn't really room for Gigi and Rory in the kitchen, where Luke was cooking and Lorelai was mostly getting in his way. Rory took glasses down from the cabinet and Gigi filled them with ice.

Lorelai asked, "Are you gearing up for the big Junior League Winter Ball?"

With a frown, Gigi glanced at her between cups. "Uh, that's coming up, but in New York. We're pretty busy with other things here."

"Sure, the seats at the symphony hall won't get reupholstered without a benefit dinner."

Gigi told herself it was probably a good time to take a deep breath. In and out, nice and slow. Let it go. Shake it off. Haters gonna hate, and all that. Let Lorelai keep the outdated image she was comfortable with.

But why?

"Our last benefit was for a teen pregnancy program," Gigi said. "And we served lunch at a soup kitchen last week." The people there had hit rock bottom. Looking them in the eye, she'd felt their pain.

Lorelai blinked. "Oh. That's good."

"I wonder if that one soup kitchen in Hartford still skimps on the vegetables," Rory said, probably thinking of her next feature article. "I did some volunteer work there during college."

"Court ordered?" Gigi asked.

Rory froze for a second. "Yes."

"Volunteer work of any kind is commendable," Luke said as he carefully basted the turkey.

"Right, like when Emilio Estevez teaches a ragtag group of kids to play hockey," Lorelai said quickly. "He was there as punishment, but he really made a difference in those kids' lives."

A bit flabbergasted, Luke asked, "Are you talking about _Mighty Ducks_?"

"I am."

"It's about hockey."

"So?"

He shook his head. "Wonders never cease."

They were about to go back to the living room, when Rory paused to grab another orange from a bowl on the counter.

"Are you feeling alright?" Luke asked her.

"Yeah, why?"

"That's the second orange you've had tonight. And you had one after lunch too. I'm amazed you've had two pieces of fruit in the same year," he said. "It must be some kind of Gilmore record."

"I don't know," Rory said, peeling the skin off the orange. "I was just hit with a craving for oranges the past few days. It's weird." It was quiet for a moment before she spoke again, her sentence not flowing confidently, "Uh, Mom, it might be like that time you wanted to eat apples."

" _You're sure going to town on those apples_ ," Rory had said to Gigi once when she was 16, at a movie night.

"Yeah, are you pregnant?" Lorelai asked.

"No," Gigi had said quickly, putting the apple down. She felt her face flush. Did they know Chris made her go on the pill? He was probably worried about his bad karma. It didn't mean she was having sex though. She didn't want people thinking she was slutty.

At her concerned expression, Lorelai had waved it off. "I'm joking. It's a Gilmore thing."

Things were finally getting interesting around here. Especially given the fact that Rory was taking some time off with her boyfriend. Luke wasn't sure the guy was good enough for her anyway. Coincidentally, Chris wasn't so sure either.

"You wanted an apple?" Luke asked Lorelai. "Were you hallucinating that it was a doughnut, or something?"

"I was going through a phase." She focused on Rory. "Do you really think it's like that time? I've been wrong before. Think back, surely you've had a Twinkie or a Ding Dong in the last 24 hours. It really could just be apples and oranges—or maybe it's scurvy."

"So she had an orange, it's a good thing," Luke said, checking another dish on the counter.

"Now that I'm thinking about it, I don't know," Rory said, doing a less convincing job of hiding her panic.

"Hey, you know what?" Lorelai said, turning to Luke. "I think we forgot something."

"What?" he asked. "We have everything."

"No, we forgot candles for the centerpieces. Mom was going on and on about hers being the wrong scent and I thought she was overreacting, but now I understand. The right candles really do set the mood. It can make or break an event."

"This isn't an event, it's dinner. And it's almost ready," he protested. "We don't need—"

"Rory and I will go get some. We'll be right back."

It happened rather quickly. They pulled on jackets and rushed out. The others shook their heads in amused wonder at the delightfully quirky whims of the Gilmore girls.

And then there were four. Gigi contemplated her options. She could go back in the living room with April and Jess, or stay in the kitchen.

Sensing the awkwardness of being left alone in each other's company, Luke said, "Hey, I didn't ask, are you still vegan?"

"No, no, not any more. I'm more Paleo-adjacent now. Fruits and vegetables, and meat."

He nodded. "Like cavemen."

"Right." She nodded too.

"Good, that's healthy." He nodded some more and put his hands at his waist for something to do.

She pulled her phone out of her pocket and pointed to the door that led to the porch. "I'm just going to go check . . ."

"Oh right, sure," he said quickly, nodding some more.

She sighed with relief when she was outside, alone. She checked her email, and was responding to one when the door opened a few minutes later. Jess slipped out. He didn't say anything to Gigi, just sticking a cigarette between his lips and pulling out a lighter. He probably forgot she was there since she disappeared during her trip to the kitchen. She was sure they'd never spoken to each other before, beyond the briefest of obligatory greetings the few times they were both here. She finished her email before pocketing the phone and hugging herself. She rubbed her arms and wished for a coat.

She gave Jess a sidelong glance and considered the opportunity in front of her. "You were Rory's high school boyfriend?"

"Yup."

"I guess she confided in you about how she didn't get to have her dad because of me. I've been dying to know how much she resented me."

He was silent for a beat, then, "Rory wouldn't. She's better than that."

Better than what, real human emotions? Gigi rolled her eyes. "Give me a break."

"She is. You don't even know how lucky you are that she's your sister."

"Oh, I'm well aware."

He shook his head minutely, his eyes straying to her car. She worked at least 60 hours a week, she could afford a nice one. The dismissive look in Jess's eye said he thought she was a spoiled brat at best, a joke of a human being at worst. It pissed her off.

She counted to 10 and told herself to stop letting things bother her. She checked the time on her phone. "The food will be cold by the time they get back."

"They're just running over to Doose's. It's not far."

She scoffed. "They're definitely going at least one town away, if not Hartford. They went to get a pregnancy test, not candles."

He turned his head to look at her for the first time. "What?"

She shrugged. "Lie of omission, it's a Gilmore thing." She wondered when he hooked up with Rory last. "She's at an advanced maternal age though, I would have thought she'd be more careful. She told me how important it is to be safe when she told me about her first time, with her high school boyfriend."

He let it sink in before he said, "That's wrong."

"What is?"

"She was a . . . She didn't—do that, in high school," he said, trying to be discreet.

"I know. She's a good girl. She was 19, when she got back to Stars Hollow for summer break," Gigi said. She wondered how much this guy hated Rory's ex-boyfriends. "She got back together with—Dan or Don or something. I asked her all about it after my dad gave me the sex talk. I had some follow-up questions, woman to woman."

Chris had given her the talk, adamant that she hear about it from a parent and not from friends or TV or some other unreliable source. Still, he thought it would be good for her to have a woman to talk to. Lorelai offered, but Rory bravely stepped up to the plate.

Gigi added, "She said they still loved each other. Isn't that romantic?"

He didn't touch that. "You're still confused. That guy had a wife."

"So?"

"So you aren't listening. Married. He was married," Jess said slowly.

"I heard, I'm waiting for your point."

"The point is that it doesn't add up when you stop and think." He tapped his head. He was staying calm, but he did not like what he was hearing.

"Haven't you ever heard of the Reynolds Pamphlet?" she asked rhetorically. "Or _Lemonade_? It happens a lot."

Jess shook his head at Gigi. "Haven't you ever met your sister, at all? It's _Rory_."

"You can keep saying that, but it doesn't mean anything."

He looked at her like she was the stupidest person in the world. "It does. She'd never do something like that."

Maybe. Maybe not. Jess's complete denial of the possibility was by far the more fascinating thing here.

"Don't worry, we all know it wasn't her fault, if she did. It was probably just her evil twin who seduced Prince Seigfried. I'm sure of it."

His brows furrowed, not up on his Tchaikovsky. "You don't know anything, and you don't know Rory." He pointed at himself. " _I_ know her."

"Ha!" she laughed, genuinely amused. "Oh I'm sure you do. She gets all your references and you like the same music . . . And books—you know, all the important things. And I bet she was the one next to you when you wrecked your first car," Gigi said. Then, it was like she wasn't even talking to him anymore, "You didn't have your shit together back in high school, and your timing was all wrong, but California was the perfect place to find yourself, and you're such an adult now. It can finally work out." She shook her head. Back in the moment, she added, "The only way to end up with the white swan is to throw yourself in the lake with her."

His eyes narrowed slightly, because she was obviously crazy. "I don't like swans."

"Oh yeah? Then get over that one." She wasn't sure when her interpretation of a classic ballet about good triumphing over evil became so warped and cynical.

She was just sick of this. Some people needed to realize they were making themselves miserable and move on with their lives.

XXX

Xavier Stiles held the marquis de Lafayette inside his jacket as he snuck through the back door early Saturday morning, and knelt down to let him out. The little dog went a couple steps ahead of him, toenails clicking on the kitchen tiles. Xavier quietly followed, thinking he'd slip in unnoticed, it was early and—

Nope, his parents were both seated at the dining table, coffee cups in front of them and the paper out. His mom was in her robe still, but his dad, who never sat around the house in pajamas no matter what day it was, already wore a sweater with his khakis. The dog caught their attention, both looking over to watch him run across the room and wonder where he came from. Then they spotted their son.

Xavier could count on his dad to respect that he was a grown man, who could come and go as he liked, and make life choices for himself. His life was his business, not everyone else's. Jason totally got that. However, Jennifer Dugray was nosy gossip. It was her business to know everyone's business.

Jenny's brows creased sharply. With a quick glance at the time, she asked, "Where have _you_ been, rockstar?"

"Out."

"In yesterday's clothes," she said. "And with your dog?"

"He doesn't like to be away from me." Gigi's cat had hid behind the couch all night, not interested in making a new friend. That was safer than streaking across the room, which would have roused the dog's interest.

Xavier collected a few items from the cabinets and refrigerator and took a seat at the table with his parents. He poured milk over his cereal. "Can't a guy Netflix and chill without his mom interrogating him the next morning?"

Her nose scrunched up. "Ech, I thought you came to visit your family, not to whore around."

Between mouthfuls of cereal, he said, "I can do both."

"So glad you can squeeze everyone in," she said dryly.

"Let's give the boy some credit," Jason said. "We weren't sure he'd be able to get a girl."

Xavier pointed a finger at his dad as he lifted his spoon to his mouth, his brow raised at his mom. "And not just any girl, a dancer."

"Oh, nice."

Jenny gave her husband a look. "Do you guys want to high-five about it?"

"Well not while you're in the room. But probably later," Jason said.

Jennifer watched her son with mild disgust as he ate his cereal. "So you're one of those guys who slinks out in the morning," she said. "I had hoped you were better than that."

"I come from a long line of ladykillers," he reminded her.

"Yes, but I didn't think you took after them."

He didn't. He just lucked out with Gigi.

Jenny declared she was going to make turkey chili with the Thanksgiving leftovers and got up to get vegetables out of the refrigerator before going upstairs to change.

Xavier's puppy scampered back into the room, apparently having not found anyone else to play with in his exploration of the house. Jason took a piece of bacon from his plate and held it down for the dog to see. Lafayette bounded over to eat it and lick his fingers. "Does he know any tricks?"

"Tell him to take a knee."

"Lafayette, take a knee."

The dog promptly rested his head on Jason's leg, his ears back. Jason pet the dog's head. "Okay, that's pretty cute."

Sloan entered the kitchen then, the family's bullmastiff in tow.

"Okay, there are too many dogs in this house," Jason said, getting up to cut the turkey leftovers for his wife.

"Will you please answer when people text you?" Sloan requested of her brother.

"Who's texting me?" he asked, reaching for his pocket and tapping on the screen. "Why are you and Tristan blowing up my phone?"

"When you didn't answer him, he started in on me to get you. But you didn't answer when I knocked on the wall, so I started texting you," she said. "He wants you to go over to his house to help him with something."

Xavier asked, "Can't Knox and Yates help him?"

"I assumed they were the ones to break something that now needs fixing."

"How do you all function when I'm not here?"

"Somehow we manage," she said dryly. But then added, "Don't stay there the whole day though."

Their mother returned and went about chopping celery and carrots at the center island. Xavier watched his parents for a moment before getting up to put his bowl in the dishwasher. Thinking of what Gigi said about the people she spent her holiday with, he asked them, "Hey, how did you two work out?"

"Work out?" Jenny asked.

"Yeah, you had me and got married years later. Not everybody does that successfully. Why did you work?"

Jason, still focused on cutting up the turkey, answered, "Because we both wanted to."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

"Her name is Kristine Haas, I'm in the Junior League with her," Gigi said. "She's opening a small business in downtown Hartford and she's going to need insurance." She handed the woman's business card to Jason. "I told her someone from the office would give her a call to discuss it."

Sloan was seated in one of the chairs across from her father when Gigi knocked on the door. She was in college now, somewhere in Massachusetts. But she came home on weekends often. She'd pestered her father doggedly, and now that she'd graduated high school, she was allowed to underwrite. Sloan affably sucked up to every senior member of the office, helpfully fetching coffee and helping with clerical tasks. She did not extend the offer to Gigi.

"Nice work," Jason said, glancing at the name. She was about to go, when he stopped her. "Hey, why don't you call her?"

Gigi blinked, surprised. "Me?"

Sloan lowered her brows in her dad's direction.

"Yeah, why not? You brought in the client. How about I walk you through it and you do the actual work, negotiate a contract, see if you like it?"

Gigi smiled. "Okay."

"Set something up, lunch or golf."

Feeling like she just got an unofficial promotion, she turned to go. Her grin lasted as long as it took to realize Sloan had followed her out. When Gigi glanced at her when she got to her office, the other blond girl glared at her. "I'm going to be your boss one day."

"Um . . . okay," Gigi said slowly.

Sloan didn't say anything else, she just gave a long withering look before continuing down the hall.

Gigi sat down in her swivel chair just as her phone started to ring. "This is Georgia Hayden," she answered.

"Georgia," the male on the line repeated.

The corner of her mouth quirked up at the sound of his voice. He had long since dropped the pretense of accidentally dialing the wrong extension. "I'm trying it out. I think it sounds more serious, for work." Then she said, "It must be working. Your dad just let me have a client."

"Congratulations."

"Thank you. You're sister was there, so she's in rare form. She just told me she'll be my boss one day."

Xavier actually giggled. "Sorry." He laughed some more. "Thank god she finally got that off her chest. Oh, I can imagine her face. I bet it was a good face."

"I'm sorry I'm missing the hilarity," Gigi said.

"Sloanie's just jealous. I don't know if you've noticed, but there are a lot of old white guys in the insurance business, Sloan was going to break the typecast, but now you're stealing her thunder."

"There can't be two young women?"

"That's not as special." He added, "And, you're prettier."

"Sometimes I wonder what it would have been like if my dad had worked with your dad when they were young, and I think it would be a lot like this." Anxiously, she changed the subject, "So, I'm glad you called. I wanted to ask you something. I have this thing coming up and I get a plus one, and I thought maybe you could come with me."

"You did?"

She faltered. "Uh, yeah, if you want. It's the first weekend in September. And I know it's a three day weekend and you might already have plans so I understand if you can't."

"You want me to come?"

A pause. "Yes."

"Okay, I'll come."

"You will?"

"Sure." Then, curious, he asked, "Don't you get plus ones to functions all the time and just take a friend?"

Friend—nephew of someone in the Junior League. Same difference. "Yeah, but this isn't a function so much as it's my sister's wedding," she said. "I didn't want to take just anyone."

"I see."

She rushed on, "It's going to be in her weird little town, where she's like, the crowned princess or something, so we can slip away after the meal and literally no one will notice."

"Crowned royalty? That doesn't sound American."

She opened her bottom drawer to pull out a file. "I think they're making Monday a holiday in her honor."

"It's already a holiday."

"Yeah, but they're renaming it. From now on, summer will be bookended by Memorial Day and Rory Day."

"I think you're making that up," he said. "So your family will be there."

"Just my dad—and my sister obviously, but she'll be occupied."

"Still counts."

Counted as what? "My dad calls Rory's mom my aunt Lorelai, because he thinks someone he's been with can qualify as an honorary aunt." She paused. "Oh, hey, if that's how it works, then she's your aunt too."

"It isn't, and she isn't."

"We're practically cousins."

"Stop it, we are not," he said, not finding it as funny as she did. "What about your grandma?"

"What about her?"

"Will she be there?"

"No." Gigi shook her head. "No, theirs is a mutual estrangement. Rory's grandmother will be there. She's hosting a brunch in Hartford the day after the wedding, but we definitely don't have to go to that. She hates me. Your dad and I are both in the club."

"Can I be in it?"

"Emily Gilmore has to hate you."

"Come on, I have the right associations, put in a good word for me."

"Fine, I'll think about it."

"That's all I ask."

She reverted back to their previous subject, "Sloan was having a pretty bad day. She probably needs to vent, so I'll transfer you."

"No, no, don't. Do not transfer me, Georgia."

"It's going to cheer her up so much to hear from her supportive big brother."

"Wait, don't—"

Gigi put the phone down and dialed Sloan's extension, smiling smugly.

XXX

On the day of the wedding, Gigi was at her dad's house getting ready. She carefully did her makeup in the upstairs bathroom before slipping into her dress. They were supposed to get to Stars Hollow early for some pre-wedding pictures. The phone started ringing, and since Chris was in the shower, she went to answer.

"Is Christopher Hayden there?" the woman on the line asked.

"He's unavailable, this is his daughter."

"Oh, I guess that's fine," the woman said. "Tell him Rory isn't getting married today. The wedding's off."

"What? Who is this?"

"Paris Geller, Rory's best friend."

Gigi frowned. Best friend?

There were a lot of voices on her end, and Gigi thought she heard the jingle of a bell. "Kirk!" Paris yelled, "I don't care about your scheme, this isn't a televised marathon. Stop asking for money and stick to my script." Back on the line, Paris said, "Sorry. I have to go. I have more calls to make."

"I'll pass message alo—." The phone went dead. When the shower shut off in the master bathroom, Gigi yelled, "Don't bother with your tux, the wedding's off."

Chris opened the door, a towel tied at his waist, steam behind him. "What?"

"Someone named Paris Geller just called. The wedding is off."

His brow creased sharply. "Paris?"

"She said she was Rory's best friend." Paris Geller was Rory's best friend the same way Gigi was Rory's sister. Strangely, it made her feel a little better to know she wasn't alone on the one way street.

He shook his head. "Lorelai would have called me."

Not true. A call from a random stranger was exactly where they ranked.

He picked up his phone and dialed. "Straight to voicemail," he said. "Hey, Lor, Gigi said Rory's friend just called and said the wedding is off. What's going on? Is Rory okay? Give me a call." He hung up. "She was fine last night at the rehearsal dinner. I wonder what happened."

She shrugged. "I know who you could call to find out."

"Emily?"

She restrained herself from rolling her eyes. "Luke."

Chris looked at her a moment and accepted she was right. He got up to pace as he talked to the other man. It only lasted a couple minutes. "Uh-huh, hey, I don't blame her. It's understandable. That we can agree on . . . You're right, this was smart." He nodded. "Okay, thanks." When he ended the call, he looked over at Gigi. "She just couldn't go through with it. Luke says the girls are taking some time away. It's just what Rory needs."

Sure.

"He said they have it all taken care of. The town is working on cleaning everything up, so Rory doesn't have to be reminded of it when they get back."

Gigi stared. She shook her head, incredulous. "What are you going to do?"

"What do you mean?"

"There were a lot of decorations set up in the middle of town, the inn is all ready. Shouldn't one of Rory's parents be there to help?"

"I don't know, Gi'g," he said, hesitant to spend time in a Gilmore-less Stars Hollow.

"You always talk about how much you regret not being there. Here's your chance to do something for her." Manipulatively, she said, "Unless you think Luke has everything taken care of."

Chris nodded resolutely. "You're right. I should help them."

"Good. I'll come too."

They met downstairs when they were ready. He frowned at her, still in her dress. "You didn't change?" Then the doorbell rang. "Who's that?" he asked as he went to open it.

"Uh, my plus one."

Chris came face to face with Xavier standing on the porch. Gigi brushed passed her father out the door. "Dad, Xavier Stiles. Xavier, my dad," she said efficiently, pulling the younger man away. "Okay, we'll see you there."

"Stiles?" Chris watched them, perplexed.

Xavier's expression was similar. "Is he going to be ready? He doesn't look ready for a wedding," he said, following to her car.

Gigi went to the driver's side. "There's no wedding. It got called off."

"Oh. Just now?" he asked, looking at her in her dress.

"Yeah, we got the call 20 minutes ago. We didn't get a lot of details," she said. She turned on the car and lowered the volume on the radio. "But the bigger mystery is why she got engaged in the first place."

"Why?"

"Because they were on a break during the holidays."

"Maybe they worked it out."

"Maybe. Or maybe it had something to do with her pregnancy scare at Thanksgiving. I'm not supposed to know about that though," she said. "I don't know the parameters of the break, and one of her lingering ex-boyfriends was in town."

It had been a predictably awkward Thanksgiving dinner, with both Rory and Jess lost in their own thoughts while Lorelai chatted to make up for it. They remembered to bring back candles, though the wicks had been burned and some of the wax was already melted. Gigi had no idea where they came from.

"Either way, there was never a baby. And now there won't be a wedding."

"Intrigue . . . and, ambiguity."

"Sorry," Gigi said as she drove down the interstate. "I'm not in the inner circle. We can speculate, but we'll never know what happened."

"Okay. So, where are we going?"

"Stars Hollow, to help clean up the all the wedding stuff. It's not because I'm a good person. I've just started to ask myself what would Rory do, and then I do the opposite," she said. "If she didn't want to get married, fine. But she blew out of town and everyone else has to clean up. Like a hurricane."

Xavier glanced at her. "You're a good person."

They arrived in the small town thirty minutes later, to a frenzy of activity. The reception was to be in the center of town, where dozens of tables were set up with centerpieces.

"I've never been to a cancelled wedding before." Xavier reached for the knot of his tie. "I'm over dressed."

Gigi lamented, "Aw, I never get to see you all suited up."

"I wear a blazer sometimes."

"It doesn't count if it's with a t-shirt and jeans."

"I think it does."

Once he was out of his jacket and tie, she led him over to the person who seemed to be in charge of the reception area. It was Rory's friend, Lane. "Hi, do you need some help?"

"Oh, Gigi," Lane said, surprised to see her. She surveyed the cleanup. "Kwan and Martha are taking off the chair covers and bows. Can you help me break down the centerpieces? The candles go in the box and we'll collect the flower vases here for the kids to run over to Miss Patty's where they'll be disassembled." She looked up at Xavier. "And you can help Zack and Brian move the tables and chairs onto the truck." She pointed with her thumb behind her, where the blond man she indicated argued with his friend about the best way to pack the stacks of chairs.

They worked efficiently, Gigi falling into a rhythm with Lane and the college kids. Chris had arrived shortly after she did, teaming up with Xavier to take down cleared tables and haul them over to the truck. In no time, the last table was gone, and there were no traces of a wedding reception.

Gigi glanced over at Luke's Diner and spotted a figure with dark hair leaning against the building, smoking a cigarette. It was Luke's nephew. Lurking. Brooding. He belonged out on the moors. Whether he had been an invited guest or was just there to see that the wedding wasn't going to happen, she didn't know. He watched the flurry of the townspeople wiping away the evidence of the wedding that wouldn't be.

He must have felt her watching him, because their eyes met. Neither acknowledged the other, they simply stared for a moment. Then she lifted a finger to point at him and then over at Chris. She kept her eyes on Jess long enough to see him turn away from her.

This was why she was the evil one.

She looked over at her dad again, now talking to Xavier. She quickly went over and grabbed the younger one by the arm. "Let's see if they need any help at the inn. Are you going to come?" she asked Chris.

"Yeah, go ahead, I'm just going to make sure the band gets paid," he said, taking his checkbook out of his back pocket.

"Don't be silly, Hep Alien isn't even playing," Lane said.

"What kind of cancelation policy is that?"

Zack appeared next to Lane. "Babe, a word."

"Listen to the man," Chris told her.

Gigi led Xavier away, strolling through the town. He looked around and read the names of the odd specialty shops, nodding to one of the display windows. "There's a cat store, we have to go later."

"No we don't."

"We absolutely do," he said with a smile. He pointed a thumb back. "So that's your dad."

"Yup. That's him."

"And he was 16 when your sister was born?"

"Right."

He nodded. "Yeah, I was totally getting lots of girls to sleep with me when I was 16."

She grinned at his obvious lie. After they'd walked a bit, she pointed over in the distance. "There's Lorelai's house." Her arm changed angles. "And that was my room."

He glanced over with a frown. "Did you point at the garage?"

"Yes."

His brows creased. "That was not your room."

"It may as well have been, I couldn't have Rory's. I was just my dad's baggage, there wasn't a place for me."

Xavier rubbed his finger against his thumb.

Incredulous, she said, "You told me you played cello. Stop playing the world's smallest violin!"

He dropped his hand and grinned. "It's playing the saddest song just for you."

"Lorelai withheld Christmas until Rory got back from visiting her boyfriend—after the new year. Rory was in college, I was _four_!"

"So _she's_ the grinch that stole Christmas," he said, mirth in his eyes.

"More like the Gilmore who stole Christmas," she said with a giggle.

As they continued on their way, she admitted, "I was visiting my mom for a while, then when I got back my dad said we lived at Aunt Lorelai's. But I was at my grandma's a lot." They would go to their family dinner every Friday night, Gigi wasn't included. She added, "It was a confusing time."

At the inn, Sookie and Luke were in charge, one forcing cake on everyone, the other leading a group of townspeople that was disassembling the ceremony site, which was to take place outside. Miss Patty was with a group of women next to the front desk. "The poor dear, she didn't try on her wedding dress this week, and oh, it's sad, but completely understandable."

The town selectman was in front of the stairs, with a group of people listening to him. "It's not surprising, really. Let us remember that Max guy. And I don't need to remind you about the Luke saga." He shook his head sanctimoniously. "Like mother like daughter."

"Taylor!" Luke shouted. "If you aren't going to help, go back to your store!" When he spotted Chris, he looked relieved and walked over. "Thank god you're here."

Gigi tilted her head toward Xavier. "Words never uttered by that man."

Luke gestured toward the dining room where the groom's parents were, deep scowls on their faces as they argued with the French concierge. "They're mad Rory left their son at the altar, as though he was good enough for her anyway. I told them it was the best thing for her, and she did the right thing, but I can't calm them down. They say they aren't paying for any of it."

Chris tapped his check book. "I've got it. I'll go talk to them, smooth it over."

"Thank you."

"Wow," Gigi commented, watching her dad go to the next room. "That was anticlimactic. There was a fifty-fifty chance they were going to get into a fight." When Xavier gave her a skeptical look, she said, "Fine, it's been 20 years, so I guess the ratio has shifted to forty-sixty."

The ceremony site was deconstructed outside, gift baskets and party favors were collected inside. In the end, the only thing left was all the food. Sookie had worked tirelessly on it the night before. It was decided everyone who helped clean up would take some, so Luke provided to-go boxes and Gigi helped Apri pass them out.

"How's Emily?" Chris asked Luke when things were finally winding down.

Luke exhaled heavily and shook his head. "She's taking it pretty hard, she was going on about how Rory should have married Logan when she had the chance."

To Xavier, Gigi said, "She could have married the Huntzberger heir."

"Oh," he said with an impressed nod. "I heard he quit and they had to bring in some lady—and something about a bastard son."

Chris said, "I'll go visit her, see how she's doing." He asked Gigi, "Do you want to come?"

She smiled easily. "Nope."

Xavier went ahead of her to load the trunk with food, but when she caught up, he wasn't at the car. She glanced both ways, wondering where he wandered off to, hoping it wasn't the cat store. She found him on a footbridge, looking out at the water.

He pointed across the lake when she reached him. "Swans. There aren't any black ones. I know they're only in Australia, but I still look, and it's always disappointing when there aren't any."

"Aren't they aggressive?"

"That's just popular imagination. They only attack if they're provoked, not for fun. Did you know they're monogamous?" he asked. "Some of the males are gay, so they have a threesome with a female. Then after she lays eggs they kick her out of the nest." He smirked proudly. "I Googled it."

She grinned back and took his hand. "I can tell. Come on, let's get out of here."

He stayed planted where he was pulling her back to him. "You look really pretty today, Georgia Rose," he said, tilting his head down to hers.

"Thanks, so do you," she said, meeting his kiss.

They headed back to the car, and Xavier put his arm around her. "Have you ever seen the Lorelei Signal episode of _Star Trek_?" he asked. "I think it may have been based on this place."

XXX

"I do love ballet," Xavier said the next morning, as they watched Natalie Portman's sex dream about Mila Kunis.

"My dad wouldn't let me see this when it came out. I was 13 when I finally got to." She came back in from the kitchen with two cups of hot tea, passing him one. She liked her chai extra spicy, Xavier found he liked his sweeter. It was a cozy drink for the rainy day they woke up to.

"My dad let me watch _Game of Thrones_ with him when I was 13, whenever my mom was working late or out of town," he said. "It was awesome."

After the movie was over and Xavier was collecting his clothes, Gigi's phone started buzzing on the lamp table. "Hello?"

"Hey, kid, are you doing anything today?" Chris asked.

"Not really, why?"

"I thought we could have a late breakfast, if you want to come over."

"Okay," she said, checking the time. "How about in an hour?"

"Sounds good." After a pause he asked, "Will there be two or three of us?"

She glanced over at Xavier on the couch, getting dressed. Grimly, she said, "Two."

Chris was in the kitchen when she arrived, cooking up brunch for the two of them. She set the table while he finished up and they sat down to their omelets. They ate in silence for a few minutes before he casually asked, "So, what's going on with you and Digger, Jr.?"

She chewed another bite before saying, "That's not his name."

"Fine, Xavier then. And don't try saying you're 'just friends'. I saw you with him on the footbridge yesterday. He's lucky I didn't come over there and shove him in the lake." Gigi frowned at that. He said, "I didn't know you were seeing anyone."

"I'm not _seeing_ him. I just see him, sometimes," she said. "He lives in Seattle and I live here. And . . . that's it."

Chris nodded slowly. "What about his parents, they treat you right?"

Her brows furrowed sharply. "They treat me fine. What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well, if you see their son, I want to make sure they're nice to you."

"They don't know. There isn't anything to tell. It's not a long distance relationship. We're just—," she thought about it a moment. "On-again, off-again. Mostly off."

"Ah, so whenever it's convenient."

She frowned. "That's not what I meant." Was that what it sounded like?

"That's fine. You can do better than Digger Stiles's kid, anyway."

She looked down at her plate. "Then why have I always done worse?" she muttered. Is that was she was doing? Using Xavier whenever it was convenient for her? He was the one to make random phone calls to the office. He came here, but she went to his city for work, not for him. And when she did go there, she assumed he was available, and not otherwise . . . attached.

She thought about yesterday in Stars Hollow, when she'd pointed to Jess and then her father. Was Xavier Stiles just the last point of the trifecta? No, she told herself. He wasn't an old high school boyfriend, it wasn't based on some lingering attraction, their best days behind them. It wasn't the same.

But still.

Surely he didn't harbor hopes of having a successful relationship with her in the long run, when all she did was flit in and out of his life. Just because that worked for her didn't mean it was good for him. He was a good guy, he deserved better.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** If it seems like Gigi's dance teacher should be played by Sutton Foster, just go with it.

 **Chapter 10**

Gigi perspired heavily as she jumped. The small jumps strengthened her feet, ankles, and knees before moving on to a couple petite allegros. She was in her spare bedroom, where she'd had large mirrors installed, along with a barre. Her teacher, Michelle, was leading her in a lesson. She was in her late forties now, still thin and agile on the dance floor. They had started at the barre exercises before moving on to center work.

"Good," Michelle said. "I think we have just enough time for fouettes."

Gigi did the series of turns as requested before they called it a day. They were in her kitchen hydrating a short while later when her doorbell rang. She glanced at the time and her brow lowered. Chris was on the other side of the door when she opened it. "You're early." She rested her hand on her hip, frowning at him.

"Whoa, I'm having a flashback to when you were seven," he said, taking her in. She was still in her leotard and tights. "Except you gave me that look when we were running late." He peered passed Gigi into the apartment, seeing her guest. "Am I interrupting?"

"We were just finishing." She opened the door to let him in and gestured to the older woman. "Dad, you remember Michelle from my ballet classes."

"Sure," he said, smiling and offering her his hand to shake.

"Hi," she said. "I'll get out of the way, if you guys have plans."

"You don't have to rush off," he said. "I'm early anyway. We were just going out for dinner." Gigi agreed to a weekly dinner with her dad, as long as it wasn't Friday night.

"Oh, that's nice," Michelle said with a smile.

"Go ahead and get ready," Chris told Gigi. "I'll wait."

"Fine. Same time next week?" she asked the woman.

"Yeah, I'll see you then."

She went upstairs to take a quick shower before putting on a pair of jeans and a sweater. When she descended the stairs, she caught the tail end of Chris saying something lame. And then Michelle laughed at it. Wait, she was still here? Gigi joined them, raising a brow at her dad.

"That was fast," he said. "We were just talking." He turned to Michelle. "Hey, do you have any plans tonight? Why don't you join us?"

"For dinner? I don't want to impose on you father-daughter bonding time."

"You don't mind, do you Gi'g?" he asked.

She raised her shoulders and shook her head. "No, you can come, if you want."

"Okay," Michelle said. "I need to go change first, and ask my babysitter to stay late. I won't hold you up?"

"Not at all. We'll pick you up."

When Michelle had gone, Gigi stared at her father. "What are you doing?"

"What?" he asked, residual smile still on his face. "I'm being polite. She doesn't have any plans, she should come with us."

Gigi refilled her glass with water. "You were flirting. I heard you." She drained half the glass before stopping.

"What? That wasn't flirting," he said, as though she was being completely absurd. "I was just talking."

"No, you were flirting, and you just asked her out. When will you learn that impressionism is not your friend?"

"I'm going to need you to elaborate on that one."

She sat her glass next to the sink and turned back. "Michelle is a spunky, pretty brunette."

"So?"

"So, Lorelai is too. Maybe it's subconscious, I don't know, but you get your hopes up about women when you date. Then when she doesn't make the right references or like old movies, you're disappointed. I'm worried that you can't let Lorelai go and be happy with someone else," Gigi said. "I don't like being sad for you, but you make me sad sometimes. I understand Lorelai will always be special to you, but she can't be the most special."

Chris protested, "Come on, I know Lorelai and I don't work. It was just a nice idea in the back of our minds for a long time."

"I know you know. But that doesn't mean you don't still measure other women with the Gilmore stick."

"Well, no one else compares to a Gilmore girl." His lips quirked to a half smile.

She didn't smile back. She glared. "Stop that. Stop worshipping the ground Lorelai walks on. You will never be happy as long as you keep her on that pedestal," Gigi said. "The rest of us feel like we aren't as pretty or smart, or as fun. And it's a shitty feeling."

He paused silently for a moment. "Us?"

"Yes, us. All of us incomparably inferior non-Gilmore's. Do you want to know the real reason I entertained the idea of going into newspapers?" she asked. "I desperately wanted to better than Rory at something." She added, "Might as well beat her at her own game."

He looked at her strangely. "What?"

"I hate that the best I can do is _maybe_ come in second to her, if I'm lucky, because she's allegedly superior." She asked, "What if Mom was with some guy, and I wouldn't shut up about how great he is? The absolute best, most wonderful guy in the whole world. A real mensch. But don't worry, Dad, I won't compare you to him, because no one could possibly come close to him." She asked, "How would that make you feel?"

"Okay, it would suck." He thought about it some more. "It would suck a lot. I'd hate it," he said. "And probably develop a complex. I would definitely hate the guy." He looked up at her with a frown. "Do you hate Rory? I don't want you to hate your sister."

"I don't hate her," Gigi said. "I'm not as angry as I used to be. But I used to be."

"I'm sorry," he said. "That was my fault. I didn't know how it felt."

"Just keep in mind she and I are different, but that doesn't make her better."

He nodded. "Okay. That's fair."

"And that goes for other women, too. Different from a Gilmore girl doesn't mean inferior." She took a deep breath. "So, I think you need to find someone who's the opposite of Lorelai."

"Opposite."

She nodded. "Yes, to rule out all possibility of settling for a second rate, Lorelai 2.0." She thought of Jennifer Stiles. "Maybe you should find a nice blond."

Chris smiled again and shook his head. "Nice try, but it doesn't work with your mom and me, either."

This time, she frowned at him like he was crazy. She shook her head quickly. "No, not Mom. I'm just saying, if you find someone totally different, you won't get your hopes up if she's almost-but-not-close-enough to Lorelai." She added, "Learn to appreciate someone for who they are instead of being disappointed by who they aren't."

He put a hand on her shoulder. "You're overthinking this."

They gave Michelle a 30 minute head start before going to pick her up. "Good news," she said when she opened the door to her apartment. "My mom can stay to watch my son for a couple more hours."

"Great," Chris said. "We won't keep you out too late."

They went to a pizza place for dinner, probably not where Chris and Gigi were originally going to go, but that was okay. Gigi had a big salad with a slice of pizza.

"So how old is your son?" Chris asked.

"Eight. He just started third grade," Michelle answered.

"Third, he must be on multiplication."

She nodded. "I'm worried how soon I won't be able to help him with math," she said. "I know the day is coming."

Chris nodded. "I remember long nights helping this one with projects."

Somewhat cynical, but not trying to be mean, Gigi said, "I reaped the benefits of his guilt."

He explained, "I have another daughter, Rory. I was in high school. I wasn't around when she was growing up. I never forgave myself for that, and I've tried to do better the second time around."

Michelle looked at Gigi. "I think you did a pretty good job. Gigi worked hard when she was younger. She'd improve, but still insist she wasn't good enough."

Chris looked at his daughter, concern apparent. Gigi's gaze fell to her plate. He agreed, "She is a hard worker. She puts me to shame." Feeling out other places of common ground, he asked Michelle, "So, have you been married?"

"Once—Ethan's dad. We were only married three years before he died in an accident. Ethan was still in diapers."

"Oh, I'm sorry. That's tough."

She nodded. "Yeah, it's just the two of us." She asked, "What about you?"

Gigi chewed a bite of salad and watched how her dad would handle the question. She was so sure Chris had difficulty connecting with his dates because no one could stand up next to Lorelai. But maybe his marital status was off-putting, and not the best way to make a good first impression. And when was the last time Gigi went on a first date, anyway? It was probably hard.

"Uh, yeah, I've been married," he said. He took a sip of his soda. "Gigi's mom and I were married for a couple years—until she left for a job in Paris."

Defensively, Gigi added, "But he was just trying to do the right thing there, since he didn't get to the first time. It was ingrained in his mind at a very young age that getting married is the only way to correct unplanned pregnancy."

"Ah," Michelle said with a nod, brows raised slightly. "I don't think that's true."

"Something I've learned the hard way," Chris said. "Twice. Rory's mom and I tried about 20 years too late."

Again, Gigi interjected, "But the French elopement is highly questionable. I don't think you guys were ever legally married."

Chris and Lorelai would have needed birth certificates and proof of divorce, along with a permit proving they had resided in France for at least 40 days. Gigi doubted they had any of that on hand. The officiant could have been lecturing them about these requirements, for all they knew.

To Gigi, he said, "Sometimes you forget I can pay people off." Then he turned his attention back to Michelle. "It was spur of the moment—when we took Gigi to see her mom in Paris for the first time."

Apparently missing the point of the story, Michelle asked Gigi, "How old were you?"

"Almost four."

Michelle took a bite of salad, watching the younger woman thoughtfully. "Did you remember her?"

Gigi rocked her head back and forth. "Not really."

Chris turned a frown on her. "You didn't remember her?"

"You told me my mom wanted to see me, and I wanted a mom." She shrugged. "That's all that mattered."

"I didn't mean to leave you with a stranger." He cringed and glanced at Michelle. "Even the second time around, I am not nailing it."

Gigi shrugged again. "It's okay." She had wished her dad had stayed with her in Paris though.

Michelle said, "I wish Ethan had his dad around, all the time. I think it's just going to get harder when he gets older."

Chris nodded. "It will be."

She smiled a little. "You could sugar coat it a little for me. I'd be okay with that."

"I believe honesty is the best policy," he flirted back, grinning.

Gigi allowed them each to get another back and forth in before she said, "It wasn't so bad having a single dad. Like when I got my first period and he offered to get me anything I needed."

Michelle asked, "What did you need?"

"A laptop."

She grinned. "Nice."

Gigi asked Chris, "Hey, did you know Michelle has performed on Broadway?"

"Broadway? Wow, really?"

"Oh yeah, back before I got married. I was in a few shows."

"Anything I've heard of?"

She nodded and took a sip. "I did some dancing and singing in _Thoroughly Modern Millie_. I've starred alongside Brian D'arcy James. And I did _Young Frankenstein_."

"Hey, Mel Brooks, you can't go wrong there." Then, to Gigi's chagrin, he quoted, "It's Franken _steen_."

She cringed, just happy he didn't know any of the songs from the aforementioned musicals. But Michelle smiled at his impression.

When she excused herself to the restroom, Chris asked Gigi, "What was all that about? Are you embarrassed by my two failed marriages?" He added, "I'm not saying I'm proud, but you seemed a little defensive there."

"It just—it sounds worse than it is, when you really think about it. Setting aside the fact that you've been overly eager to commit for the wrong reasons, the right woman could still be out there."

"And what would the right reason be?" he asked, as though quizzing her rather than not knowing the answer. He didn't want her to repeat his mistakes. Even if he did have enough money for her to do so.

She was silent for a couple beats. Then, "Love is romantic and all, but probably not enough. . . Both people have to want to be in it."

He grinned a little and nodded. "Smart."

They didn't leave when they were finished eating, instead ordering dessert and a few rounds of drinks while they talked. Well, Chris and Michelle talked, Gigi mostly listened. She found herself feeling like the third wheel. There weren't many patrons left in the restaurant when they decided to call it a night.

"Thanks for inviting me, I had a good time," Michelle said when they stopped at her apartment. "It was good to go out. I never get to go out."

"Oh, well, we should do it again some time," Chris said, congenially. He glanced at Gigi for confirmation, but she frowned at him. "Are you doing anything Saturday night?"

"I'm not, but I'd have to get a sitter for Ethan."

Gigi looked from Michelle to Chris, and decided to throw him a bone, "I could watch him."

"Really?"

"Yeah. We can hang out." She looked at her dad. "At the house, you have video games. Boys like video games, right?"

Chris looked at Michelle. "I haven't played them in ages." He blinked. "I'm an adult."

She chuckled and smiled. "Okay. Saturday."

"Saturday," he repeated.

She looked at Gigi. "Don't slack off. We still have a lesson next week, even if I have a crummy time with him."

The corner of Gigi's mouth lifted slightly. "Okay."

When it was just the two of them, Chris said, "Hey, that was nice of you to offer."

Gigi considered him a moment. "Well, I want you to date. But I don't want to go on the dates _with_ you."

"I should get going," he said, heading for the door.

"Hey, Dad."

He turned back. "Yeah?"

Then she wasn't sure how to say it. "About what we talked about earlier, as far as father figures go, I would only feel like your daughter." Gigi tried to choose her words carefully, "Rory too. Even though you aren't alone in paternal affection for her, and you've made mistakes, she—from what I've seen—she only reciprocates with you." Gigi shook her head. "I'm sorry, this isn't coming out very well."

"I think I understand what you're saying," Chris said with nod. "And, thanks. It means a lot."

XXX

Gigi watched Ethan move his playing piece three spaces forward to slide down the ramp, bumping off her piece.

"Sorry!" he said with a cheeky grin, taking pleasure in putting her green pawn back Home.

"I'm going to remember that," she told him. She flipped over the next card in the stack and moved one of her pawns back a space.

It was early December, and Chris was still dating Michelle. Gigi was cautiously optimistic. Luckily, Michelle didn't depend on her to watch Ethan every time they went out. Gigi didn't mind hanging out with the boy now and then.

Ethan was kneeling in front of her coffee table, surveying the board. He scratched his head in thought, ruffling his light brown hair before flipping the next card. His jaw dropped comically when Gigi's cat jumped on the table, taking a few steps across the game board and knocking over some of the pieces. "Hey!"

She picked up her feline friend and held him to her chest. "See? He saw what you just did. He's defending my honor." She whispered to her cat, "Thank you, but I can take him." She showed no mercy, and won the game. "Do you want to play the grownup way this time?" she asked as they reset the board.

"Yeah," he said brightly. "What's the grownup way?"

She picked up the deck of cards to give them a quick shuffle, then dealt them each five cards. "You get to pick which one of those you want to use, and then you draw a new one. And we get points."

"Okay," he said, taking a look at his options. Then he picked up the box with the extra pieces. "How about we use these too?"

She peeked in at the red and yellow pawns. "What will we do with them?"

He picked out half the pieces. "I'll be blue and yellow, and you be green and red." He put all the pawns in their corresponding home bases.

Gigi watched. "All right," she said slowly. "But how about the red and yellow guys can only go around the board backwards, not forwards."

Ethan thought about it. "Only four can go back."

"And when you get a 10, you can go back one."

"That's going to take them a long time to get around."

"I know, they can be for extra points." Her phone buzzed from the lamp table, so she reached over to answer.

"Hey, how's it going?" Chris asked.

"Fine. We're playing board games."

"Good. Uh, would it be okay if Ethan stays there overnight?"

"I guess," she said slowly. "Why?" Her brain kicked in and she shook her head quickly. "Ew, don't answer that." She hopped up to go in the next room.

"Thanks, things are going well and we thought since we've been going out for—"

"Stop stop stop stop," she interrupted. "I don't need details." They ended the call and she went back to the living room, wondering what she should tell the eight year old. She took her seat on the couch. "So, that was my dad. I told him we were having such a good time playing games that your mom said it would be okay if you stayed, and we can stay up all night."

Ethan's brows shot up. "All night?"

"Yeah, unless you fall asleep."

"I won't," he said confidently.

He was passed out on the couch two hours later, half way through the movie he picked. Gigi stopped it and looked around. She put a blanket over Ethan and turned the lights off. She took her phone and went to her room. She was glad her dad was having a good time with Michelle. It was nice, to have someone. Gigi scrolled down her list of contacts, to the very bottom. She looked at the last name for a few seconds before she tapped it.

"Hi, it's Gigi. I'm just sitting at home by myself and I . . . I don't know, I wanted to hear your voice."

She wanted to tell him she was toying with teaching ballet classes with Michelle. She needed to tell him she decided what direction to take her career. She wasn't going to travel long distance anymore. It wasn't her life goal to travel anyway. The notion was always in her head, that one should want to travel and see the world. But she'd already seen Europe, and if she wanted to go to Asia, Chris would be more than willing to pay her way. He had for Rory, when she finished her first big journalism assignment.

That meant she wouldn't be going to Seattle anymore. It was for Xavier's own good. It would be better for him for her to stay away. He could go on with his life without her sporadic disruptions.

Xavier didn't say anything at first. "We've been missing each other."

"I've been busy," she said, quite sure he knew she was avoiding his calls at work. It was probably obvious when she forwarded him to his dad or sister when his name popped up on the caller ID. More lately though, Sloan had not been coming to the office. Gigi was curious why that was. There seemed to have been a dustup between father and daughter. She had overheard the other girl argue to Jason, "You can't decide that for me." Gigi wanted to ask Xavier what that was about.

Instead, she just asked, "How have you been?"

"Fine," he said, somewhat stilted. "I'm, uh, on a date."

Her heart sank all the way down to her stomach. "Oh." She was speechless for a moment as her eyes filled with tears, then she was a little upset with him. "Why did you answer if you're on a date?"

"I don't know. She's in the restroom and your name popped up on my phone, and you haven't—I haven't—I just answered."

"I'm sorry, I'll let you go. Get back to your date." Gigi fought the lump in her throat. "She could be the one."

"What? Wait—"

She hung up before the tears started to fall.

XXX

After Chris walked Michelle and Ethan to her car the next morning, Gigi asked, "So it's going well?" She was tired. She had not slept well.

"Yeah, we have a lot of fun," he said. "You know what I really like about her?"

"What?"

"We both have a lot of stories about our kids, but after I tell one about you, she can match it with one of her own," he said. The woman had seen Gigi in some of her best and worst moments in her childhood. "It's just really nice to share stories with someone who knows you. I've never had anyone like that before." Then Chris segued, "Hey, so, the holidays are coming."

"I know. I'm going to order tickets for the _Nutcracker_." She paused a beat. "We could ask Michelle if she and Ethan want to come with us, if you want."

He grinned. "Really? That was always our thing, you wouldn't mind inviting other people?"

She shrugged. "Our club isn't that exclusive."

"Alright, yeah, we can ask them." Then he said, "I actually wanted to give you your present early." He slid a key across the table over to Gigi.

She stared at it for a moment. "What does it go to?"

"Your very own pied-a-terre in Paris," he said happily, as though he was sure this was just what she wanted.

She stayed overly calm as she played dumb, "What do I need an apartment in Paris for?"

His shoulders dropped and he gave her a withering look. "Come on, you know why," he said. "You haven't been there in a few years, and your mom has asked when you're going to visit. I thought this way, you'd have your own place—if you want to, you know, get away."

"I don't want to visit."

"She's your mom, Gi'g, she wants to see you."

"Then why doesn't she come here?" Gigi demanded. "Why doesn't she ever come here?"

"I know she's made mistakes, but she's still your mom."

"She does not want to be my mom. She rejected me, and it hurts." Her voice cracked because of the lump in her throat. "Just let me be the one to reject her." She blinked to keep the tears from falling. "Please."

Chris exhaled heavily and nodded reluctantly. "Alright."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Christmas music played softly from Gigi's office computer on December 24th. She liked to start listening to it a week or two before Thanksgiving, to stretch the holiday out as long as she could, a slow simmer. It wasn't very late, but the office was emptying out as people left early to get to their Christmas Eve gatherings. Gigi didn't have anywhere to be. Chris had called her around lunch time with the bad news. He was stuck in Detroit because of a big snow storm. He promised to get the first flight he could.

"Why don't you go to Stars Hollow?" he had suggested. "I can call Rory, I'm sure they'd love to have you."

Out of pity. "Will their holiday be unfulfilled in any way if I'm not there?" At her father's prolonged silence, she said, "I'll be fine until you get here."

Around five o'clock, Jason Stiles poked his head in. "Hey, Gigi, you're still here?"

She glanced up. "Yeah. I don't have anywhere to go tonight, so I'm getting some work done."

He gave her a perplexed frown. "You don't have anywhere to go? But it's Christmas."

"My dad's stuck in Detroit, and my grandma moved to Florida a few years ago. So, no." Michelle probably would have taken her in, but they already went to see her family in Pittsburgh. "It's not a big deal."

"But you love Christmas." He pointed to her computer. "You've had Christmas music playing since summer."

"No, that was just Christmas in July. I didn't start up again until November."

"Well either way," Jason said. "You should come over to our house until your dad gets in." The Stiles house was the last place she belonged. She was about to politely turn him down when he added, "It's just me and Jenny this year."

"What about your kids?"

"Xavier says he can't make it back. He said the same thing at Thanksgiving, even though he usually makes it back for at least one. And Sloan decided to go skiing with friends, but I think it's really because she's still mad at me."

Gigi considered it. "You don't postpone Christmas until they can be here?"

He shook his head. "No. They're adults, and we don't want them to think the world stops for them when they choose not to come."

Jason and Jennifer Stiles just won a few points in Gigi's book. "You're sure Jenny won't mind?"

"Not at all. In fact, if she finds out you didn't have anywhere to go and I didn't invite you over, I'll be in trouble. You can distract her from the fact that her own kids didn't come to see her," he said. "So you have to come."

"Well, I don't want you to get in trouble."

He grinned and nodded. "That's right, just come by the house. Jenny was off today, she's been baking cookies."

It was starting to flurry when she arrived at the Stiles's an hour later. "Come on in," Jason said at the front door, peeking out at the sky. He took her coat and directed her to the kitchen.

Jennifer greeted her with a smile. "You're a Christmas orphan this year?" She was standing at the center island with a bowl of dough in front of her, the counter full of ingredients. Judging by the jar of molasses, the current batch was going to be gingersnaps.

"Yeah, thanks for having me over."

"Our pleasure." Jenny dusted off her hands and turned to a pot on the stove. She gave it a stir and said, "I hope you like baked potato soup." She turned back. "What do you and your dad usually do?"

Chris wanted them to have their own traditions, especially when it was just the two of them making all the decisions. She liked to decorate the tree as early as she could talk him into putting it up, while listening to Christmas music. "We used to go to my grandma's house. Sometimes we'd go to church if she thought we should go. The choir and decorations were always pretty." She shrugged. "We have cinnamon rolls for breakfast and bake cookies." From 'scratching' Chris would always say. She asked, "What do you guys do?"

"Jason's parents go south for winter now," Jennifer said. "But we used to go to their house for Christmas Eve. They always served clam chowder and the kids opened presents—more than they ever needed. And we did our own thing Christmas day."

When Jason came in to snag a finished cookie from the table, Gigi asked her, "What was your first Christmas at his parents' like?" She took a spoon and helped drop cookie dough on a second baking sheet.

" _Uhhhh_ ," Jenny said, high pitched and drawing the word out. "Jason was really nervous. I was ashamed of myself, and guilty. But Floyd helped me push through that."

Jason glanced at her, in disbelief. "Floyd, really?"

"Yeah, the shame was replaced with indignation." She explained, "You left the room, and your dad took your glass, and when I saw, he claimed he was going to freshen your drink." Jenny continued, "So I picked up Xavier's cup and handed it to him and said his needed to be freshened, too. Even though it obviously didn't. And I just stared him down so he'd know I knew what he was doing."

Gigi grinned.

"Really?" Jason asked.

"You shouldn't have been naive by then. Surely you knew he wouldn't blindly trust me."

"I always assumed the test came back positive since he never told me otherwise." He added, "I didn't know about your death stare though."

"He may as well have called me a slut and a liar in front of everyone. I couldn't just sit there and pretend not to notice." She turned to the oven to put her sheet of cookies in and set the timer.

The phone rang and Jason went to answer it.

Jennifer went on, "Once the DNA results came in, Floyd could move on to hating me for keeping his grandson from him for three years. I was never going to win with him."

"But you guys got married. Did you get some points for that?"

She shook her head. "Not with our one executive per family rule. Kind of put the nail in that coffin."

After Gigi spooned the last row of cookies, she rested her elbows on the counter and leaned in conspiratorially. "So why is Sloan mad at Jason?"

Jennifer rolled her eyes. "Daddy-issues, what else?" She added, "His, not hers. He doesn't want her working there after college. He's worried everyone will treat her like a kid."

"What do you think?"

She flipped to another recipe and switched out a few ingredients. "I think she has two years to get over it or change his mind."

Jason returned then, handing the phone off to Jenny. "It's Xavier."

Gigi's heart fluttered and it felt like her face may have flushed.

"Oh, good," Jenny said, accepting the phone. "I can tell him we've replaced him."

Jason nodded. "He knows."

XXX

Xavier snuck into his childhood bedroom just before dawn and collapsed in his bed. He was usually able to sleep for the entire flight across the country, but this time he did not have such luck, middle of the night though it was. He'd shifted in his seat for hours, trying to get comfortable while everyone else on the plane slept without trouble.

He pulled the blanket up over his head, willing himself to get a couple hours of sleep before the sun came up. He was awakened by a young blond woman sliding in next to him, a ray of sunlight peeking in from a crack between the curtains. Sleepily, he wrapped his arm around her waist to spoon her closer. Sleepily, he said, "I heard you were here."

"How? No one knows I'm here. I heard _you_ come in."

Xavier registered his sister's voice. He jerked his head away. "Sloan? Get out of here." He shoved her out of his bed with both hands.

Sloan squealed as she landed on the floor with a thud. " _Ow_!" She rubbed her hip.

More awake now, he sat up, pulling his blankets around his waist. "What are you doing in here?"

"I was crawling into bed with you, like when we were kids. It was going to be adorable," she said, still offended. She scowled at the blankets gathered at his midsection. "You were a little too happy to see me."

He hissed, "I didn't think it was you."

Her scowl deepened. Somewhat shrilly, she asked, "Who did you think it _was_?"

Their mother said something out in the hallway, probably hearing the commotion. Xavier and Sloan both went to the door and poked their heads out. Jennifer was standing in the doorway of the master bedroom, and the room across the hall from her opened and Jason stepped out.

He asked, "What's going on?" They both stopped when they noticed their children staring at them.

Jennifer blinked. "You're here?" She looked from her daughter to her son. "Both of you?"

"I decided not to go skiing."

"Me too," Xavier said. "I mean, I decided I could make it after all."

"It's a Christmas miracle," Sloan said.

The door to the spare room opened and Gigi stepped out to see what was going on. If hearts could skip beats, then Xavier's did. A breath got caught in his throat. Her hair was shorter than when he'd seen her at the end of summer. It looked prettily curled and then slept on. He quickly ruffled his own bed head with both hands. Her eyes widened when she saw him and his sister.

Sloan scowled some more. "What is _she_ doing here?"

"Gigi's dad is out of town, and since our kids were too, we invited her," Jason explained.

Xavier hadn't taken his eyes off of Gigi, who was looking like a deer in the headlights. "Uh, I could go," she said, obviously feeling awkward. "I don't want to intrude."

"Don't be silly, stay," Jenny said. "You're not going to want to miss these two pouting when they find out I don't have presents for them."

Sloan's jaw dropped, along with her shoulders. "Auh."

"See? It's already starting."

She lifted her chin slightly, bucking up. "That's okay. I came to see my family. That's what's really important, right?"

Jenny smiled, aware her daughter was laying it on a bit thick. "That's right. Now get dressed so we can have breakfast." Her eyes lingered on Sloan as she came over to give them each a hug. "You can help me make it."

Jason followed Jenny back into the master bedroom, leaving the younger people to look at each other. Xavier tried to push past his sister to get to Gigi, but Sloan frowned at his not going to get dressed, glancing down at the sheet he was letting fall. She looked back up at him. "What are you—?" Then, remembering from before, "Who did you—" She turned to Gigi and narrowed her eyes at Xavier.

He quickly grabbed her arm and pulled her back into his room, shutting the door behind them.

Sloan was scandalized. "Did you know Gigi Hayden was here?"

"Dad mentioned it when I called last night, yes."

"And was that before or after you decided to come back?"

"Um, before. Just before."

She squared her shoulders and crossed her arms, giving him a defiant look, daring him to lie. "What's going on?"

"She and I—." He turned his palm up. "We—"

"There's a _we_?"

"Sometimes, there's a we. Like when we're in the same time zone."

Sloan's jaw dropped in horror. Her face muscles were getting a workout today. "That is my work enemy."

He smiled widely, saying, "You don't work there."

"Only if Dad gets his way." She gestured toward the door. "She's stealing my life!"

Xavier sat down on his bed and rested his chin in his palm. Muffled by the side of his hand, he flatly asked, "How is she stealing your life?"

"She pals around with Mom in the Junior League, and Dad is letting her have clients. Those should be _my_ clients!" she said indignantly. "And she's at our house, on _Christmas_. Doesn't she have somewhere else to go?" She added, "You know, I've seen her watching cat videos on company time."

Xavier mockingly gasped in horror. "I wonder who sends her those?"

Sloan glared at him. "You?"

He grinned cunningly.

She gasped. "I don't even know you anymore."

"And no, she doesn't have anywhere else to go if her dad's out of town." He put his arm around her shoulders and led her to the door. "Now go get dressed so we can all have a nice Christmas breakfast."

He pushed her out, peeking into the hall before turning to his duffel bag. He'd hastily thrown some clothes in the bag the night before when he impulsively decided to come. He put on jeans and a sweater, and went down to the kitchen, where his mother and sister were cracking eggs and whisking. He put on water for coffee and two cups of peppermint tea. Sloan eyed the two cups and then Xavier, wary that he knew everyone's morning beverage preference.

After the tea was ready, he took the cups to the living room, where Gigi was sitting on the loveseat, the couch being occupied by Bones McCoy. Xavier sat down next to her and handed over one of the cups.

She glanced at him. "Thank you." She lifted the cup to breath in the scent. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas."

"The tree is pretty," she commented. It was in the corner near the fireplace, lit up with white lights. "Sorry for ambushing your holiday. I really could go."

"No, it's okay. No one minds."

She lifted a brow. "No one?"

"Well, no one who's in charge around here."

Slightly uneasy, Gigi asked, "Uh, your parents, are they okay?"

"I think so. Why, did you hear something?" he asked, startled.

"No, but they came out of different bedrooms."

"Oh, that's all? Okay," he said, putting a hand to his heart. "That's fine. You scared me."

"It's fine?"

"Dad's a really light sleeper, and can only sleep with Mom about seventy percent of the time, but that's slipping because she keeps throwing all the covers off and turning the fan on. He wakes up freezing, so he just goes to the other room." He added, "That's why Sloan was in my room."

"Oh, well that explains . . . nothing."

"When she was little I intercepted her on the way to our parents' bedroom at night. I knew she'd wake up Dad, so I let her come into my room."

"Do you win annual Sweetest Big Brother awards for your chivalry?" she asked wryly.

He smirked. "If only."

"So your dad has to sleep in a different room. That's . . . weird."

"My dad is a weird guy."

"So is mine. I think that's just how dads are."

"No, we're talking dad-weird on top of his preexisting Jason-weird. That's a potent combination."

Gigi took a sip and exhaled heavily. "My dad bought me a pied-a-terre in Paris."

"Wow. Is it nice?"

"Probably, but I wouldn't know. I got mad at him and refused to go." When he gave her a silent, though unimpressed look, she asked, "What?"

"Nothing, I was just thinking about how well-adjusted you are." He escorted her to the dining room when breakfast was ready, pulling out her chair before sitting on the opposite side of the table next to his sister.

"So, Gigi," Sloan said when they'd all helped themselves to the food, "do you have a boyfriend?"

Xavier's heart surprised him by suddenly beating faster, anxious for the answer. Maybe she was finally finished with her relationship hiatus and found someone else. That would explain why she had become so elusive the last few months.

"No," Gigi said slowly, to Xavier's relief.

Jason asked him how work was, and his mom followed up with an inquiry about his friends. He was not going to engage in insurance shop talk as long as his sister was in the room.

Sloan changed tacts and asked Gigi, "Have you traveled anywhere good lately? The Pacific Northwest, maybe?"

"Uh, no." She looked down at her plate. "I'm only taking clients on the east coast, so I won't be travelling far."

The fork in Xavier's hand stopped and he looked at her. "Just the east coast?"

"Yeah," she glanced at him. "I might teach some ballet, so I can't be out of town all the time."

Gigi wasn't going to travel anymore. Xavier heard it, but it took a moment to process. She would _never_ come to Seattle again? She was avoiding eye contact with him, playing with her food. And then, barely thinking, he said, "I think I'm going to move back."

Everyone stopped to stare at him. Sloan, suddenly not caring about interrogating Gigi, asked, "Really?"

"Yeah," he said, his heart beating quickly. "I've been out there almost five years, that's long enough." He glanced at Gigi again, gauging for a reaction. She had that wide eyed deer in the headlights look about her again, panic stricken.

"It _is_ a Christmas miracle," Jennifer said. "When did you decide that?"

"Oh, pretty recently." Another glance to Gigi, still speechless. "All the people I care about are here, so I should be here, with them."

Gigi finally spoke, "Why?" It wasn't exactly the enthusiasm he was hoping for.

"I just said. I can be with anyone I want, without an entire country in between."

"You can't move."

Sloan hissed, "Yes he can."

"I can't?" he asked, pointedly.

"No. Don't."

"What?" he asked. "Why not?"

"Because, you love Seattle."

"Not as much as other things."

Sloan frowned at him, taken aback.

Jenny tilted her head toward Jason to whisper, "What's going on?"

He whispered back, "I have no idea."

Sloan quietly briefed them, "They've been having an amorous connection. Apparently."

"Oh," they both said with a nod and continued to watch.

Xavier was too distracted to pay them any attention. "What is your problem?" he finally asked Gigi, frustrated.

"I don't have a problem," she said defensively.

"Then how are we not married yet?" he asked rhetorically. Then he answered, "The only reason I can think of is that we live too damn far apart. If I move here, we could be a normal couple."

" _Married_?" Jason whispered to his wife. "He's 26."

"Shh." Jenny kept her eyes on the drama in front of them.

"I don't understand," Xavier said. "Things were—moving forward, I thought you were finally finished 'finding' yourself. You called me, from here." He added, "I met your dad. He took me out to lunch a couple months ago."

That was news to Gigi. "What?"

"He was in Seattle, he looked me up."

"Well he shouldn't have."

"He works for a software company, it wasn't like we couldn't carry a conversation." He went on, "You asked me to come to your sister's wedding, because I wasn't just anybody."

"I shouldn't have asked you to do that."

He sat back a little, exasperated. "So none of it means anything?"

She looked down rather than at him as she shook her head. Tears started falling down her cheeks. "I'm sorry, I should go," she said, avoiding eye contact with everyone as she fled.

XXX

"What's wrong with him?" Tristan asked later that evening. He came over at his sister's request, his nephew needing cheering up. He helped himself to a Christmas cookie. "He's moping around like his dog died."

"More like when his team lost the Super Bowl," Sloan said. She and Jason were playing a game at the table, their work conflict set aside for the day.

"You think the Seahawks losing the Super Bowl was worse than when Sirius died?" Jennifer asked. "That's terrible."

"Sirius was old, you guys talked to us about death. It was sad, but we knew it was coming," Sloan said. "Before the Super Bowl, Dad and Xavier had two solid weeks to giggle about Tom Brady's deflated balls."

Jason smiled. "Oh that's right."

Jenny asked, "It's nice to have an excuse to act like a 13 year old boy, isn't it?"

Tristan and Jason both grinned and nodded.

"The Seahawks were winning the game, and then at the very end, they lost," Sloan said. "For the longest time after that, all we heard was, 'You have Marshawn Lynch. Pass the ball to Marshawn Lynch.' And, 'Why did Pete Carroll make such a bad call?'"

"She's right, that was worse," Jason said. "That was when we had our talk about forgiving people when they make mistakes."

"Okay, that was annoying for us, but on an emotional level, I still think the death of his childhood dog was a deeper loss," Jennifer said. "Sirius was gone forever. There were other Super Bowls, and Tom Brady got that funny 90's junior high hair cut."

"Fine," Sloan conceded. "He's moping around like his dog died."

Jennifer answered her brother's original question, "He's having some girl troubles. He got a little dumped this morning at breakfast."

Jason added, "In front of us."

Dryly, Tristan turned to his sister. "That must have been terrible for you to see."

"It was heartbreaking."

"Did you think about leaving the room?"

She picked up a cookie. "I did not."

He shook his head at her. "Who's the girl?"

"Georgia Hayden."

His brow quirked up. "Is she southern?"

"No, but she went to Princeton," Jenny said. "She did an internship at the paper in Trenton. She was working too hard to please other people, and living in the unrealistic shadow of an older sister she hardly ever sees." She added, "She works with Jason now."

Sloan interjected, "I thought she didn't have anywhere else to go. She has a sister?"

"Half-sister, and she's a lot older." Jennifer pointed to her brother. "Like, that much older. They don't see much of each other. Her mom left, too."

Jason admitted, "I have a hard time remembering that connection. But I usually forget she's Chris Hayden's daughter, too. She works hard." He continued, "I knew Xavier flirted with her at the office, and work has sent her to Seattle. I didn't know he wanted to marry her though. Isn't he kind of young?"

"Not everyone fears commitment," his wife said pointedly.

Jason asked Sloan, "Is she looking at me?"

Sloan glanced at her mother. "No. But Tristan is."

"So am I supposed to cheer up Willie Nelson, or pump him for details?" Tristan asked. At Sloan's confused look, he said, "Georgia on my mind."

"Hey man, do what you can," Jennifer said.

Xavier walked in on them then, Lafayette resting on his arm, and they all stopped talking about him.

"Come on, let's go out," Tristan said.

"I don't want to go out."

"I didn't ask if you wanted to. Put your dog down and get your coat."

Silently annoyed, he gave his uncle a withering look as he put Lafayette in Sloan's outstretched arms.

As they headed out, Tristan asked, "How long are you in town?"

"I'll probably get a flight out tomorrow."

Sloan's shoulders dropped as she watched them leave.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Gigi hardly talked at dinner with Chris when he made it back. He'd asked if she wanted to exchange gifts first, but she declined. If she could wait a week when she was four, she could wait a couple hours now that she was 24.

"I talked to Michelle this morning," Chris said. "She had to come home early, Ethan got sick. Poor guy."

"Mm," Giig muttered.

"It's tough, taking care of a sick kid alone. I at least had a nanny to help."

Gigi didn't respond, not processing information today.

Chris didn't say anything for a moment either. Then, "Should I see if she needs anything?"

She looked up at him. "What?"

"Should I give Michelle a hand? Her mom won't be back until the end of the week, on the train."

Gigi shrugged. "Go for it. She doesn't have anyone else."

He nodded, convinced this was the right course of action. "I can pick up her mom too." They ate for a few minutes before he noticed she was picking at her food. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." She rolled some peas around on her plate. She looked back up at him. "Did you have lunch with Xavier?"

Chris nodded. "Yeah."

"Why would you do that?" she asked, pained.

"Because I was in Seattle, and I thought—hey, his parents see you all the time. I wanted to get to know him. He's actually a good guy."

"I know."

"And he works at Google, that's the holy grail. He told about what he does there, it's pretty cool."

She was quiet for a while again before she said, "He came to his parents' for Christmas. He wasn't supposed to be there."

"Well that's good, you got to see him."

She shook her head.

"No?"

She put her fork down and rested her cheek against her fist. She sighed. "I've made a point not to see him, because . . ." She shook her head again. "So he can move on."

Chris tilted his head. "Why?"

"It wouldn't work, and I don't want him waiting around for me, thinking there'll be a happy ending when the time is right." Desperately, she said, "I don't want him to be like you."

"Like me?"

"Yes," she said. "I know you've been dating Michelle and things have been going well, but it took you so long to get past Lorelai."

He sighed. "We already talked about this."

"I know. But for over 20 years you thought you'd eventually end up together."

"That's a lot different from you," Chris argued. "We had a kid way too young, for one thing, and there were other complications over the years that made our situation unique."

She was quiet for a moment, deciding whether or not to confront him. "Complications like me?"

He was silent for several seconds as he looked at her. "Wh—"

"I know about Sookie's wedding."

His brow creased. He slowly asked, "How do you know about that?"

"Someone in Stars Hollow mentioned it once, about how you were there . . . and intimate, with Lorelai. Rory wouldn't talk about it." She swallowed hard. "Or at least, she didn't want to talk to _me_ about it." Gigi looked her father in the eye. "Why was that?"

Chris sat back and exhaled heavily. "Okay," he said, resolved to tell her. "Your mom and I were taking some time apart, to decide what we wanted, and I . . . spent some time in Stars Hollow. With Lorelai and Rory." He paused. "For about five minutes, we thought the stars were finally aligned in our favor, but then . . . I got a call, and I left them. I let them down for the hundredth time."

Gigi was blinking to keep the tears in her eyes. "What call?"

"Your mom. She just found out she was pregnant." He got up to sit next to her and put his hand on her shoulder. "But none of that is your fault, okay? That was _my_ choice. I wanted to do the right thing, and be there for you. I wanted to be your dad. And I don't regret it."

She was still blinking back tears and she looked at him. She sniffled. "You don't?" she asked in a small voice.

"No." He hugged her for a minute, then he held her by the shoulders. "You're an amazing ki—young woman, and I'm lucky to be your dad."

She sniffled and swallowed hard. "You can call me kid, if you want."

He smiled a little. "You're a good kid." He added, "And I want you to be happy—with whoever will make you happy. Or is it whomever?" He shook his head and pulled her up. "Come on, I want to open presents. I like the sizes of the ones your grandma sent."

XXX

Gigi stood outside Jason Stiles's office, too afraid to go in. She couldn't go in there. Maybe in another two weeks, when it would seem less terrible. She felt like the worst person in the world. Every time she replayed Christmas morning in her head, it made her cry. If she went in there, she was going to think about what happened, and cry, right in front of Xavier's dad.

"Did you need something Gigi?" Jason asked, walking up behind her.

She jumped, startled, as she turned. "Oh, I just—I needed to give you this." She handed him a file folder.

"Thanks."

She stayed planted to the spot, unable to move. "I'm sorry for ruining Christmas for everyone."

"Oh, you didn't ruin it for everyone."

"Right, just Xavier." She swallowed hard. Guiltily, she said, "I'm sorry I never said anything, but we only saw each other a few times a year. It wasn't like we—,"

Jason held up a hand to stop her. "It's okay. It happens, I know."

 _Lorelai._

Gigi's shoulders slumped.

He added, "You don't have to tell me about your personal life."

"Even when it involves your kid?"

"He's not a kid, and he isn't going to tell me everything either." They were quiet for a moment, then he said, "Xavier's flying back to Seattle today."

"Oh." She nodded. "Good." She stood there awkwardly for a few seconds, not sure what else to say. She was about to leave, when she turned back. "I heard you don't want Sloan working here after college."

He nodded. "I don't want her to feel obligated to stay, and start resenting me. Or feel trapped."

"Maybe she just wants to work with you before you retire," Gigi said. "Couldn't she quit if she starts to hate it?"

Jason tilted his head in consideration. "She _could_ quit, if she wanted." He added, "It's not like I would ever sue her."

"Why would you sue her?"

"Vengeance and pride."

Her brows creased. "Uh, okay." She excused herself and went to her office, where she got back to work. Just before lunch, there was a knock at her door as she was typing an email. "Come in," she said without looking up immediately. She was startled when she saw her visitor.

Sloan Stiles was in the seat across from her, looking more hostile and put-out than she ever had before. "Xavier is leaving."

"I know."

"Then why are you just sitting here?" she demanded. "I've been trying to talk him into moving back for five years and I can't get the job done. Now he finally says he'll move so he can be with you and you tell him not to? Why?"

"He wasn't thinking," Gigi said. "He can't just impulsively decide to move across the country on a whim. That's a big decision."

"This is the side he belongs anyway," Sloan said. "I don't understand. Are you in love with someone else?"

"No."

"Just not Xavier then."

Gigi folded her arms and looked away. She muttered, "I didn't say that."

"Then what is it?" The girl was pleading now, looking desperate.

"I don't want him waiting for me, when I already know it won't work. The only reason it has for this long is because he's 3,000 miles away."

"How long is this long, exactly?" Sloan asked curiously.

"Three years."

Incredulous, she mouthed, _three years_?

Gigi said, "If Xavier moves back here, we'll go out, and then he will finally find out that I'm a mess in relationships. I'll get jealous and clingy, and he won't be able to stand it. I'll sense it, and dump him before he can dump me. Because getting dumped sucks." She added, "The only reason he doesn't know is because he's been a safe distance away." She shook her head. "I see way too much of your parents for them to hate me when we break up."

"You don't know that you will."

"I do know. It's happened before, and I'm the common denominator."

Sloan's brows were lowering when Jason walked by the office and stepped back. "Sloan? You came in today?"

The girl looked up at her father distractedly. "Yeah, I had something to do."

"Could you come here for a minute? I want to talk to you."

She slowly got up. "Fine." With a stern look back at Gigi, "We're not finished."

Gigi watched her leave and sighed, getting back to work. She was right and Sloan was wrong. The other girl was just too naive to realize it.

Hours later, it was dark outside, and Gigi was still working. Sloan abruptly joined her again, sitting in the same seat she'd been in earlier. "Clingy isn't a problem," she declared, as though she hadn't been gone the whole day. "Xavier loves clingy."

Gigi frowned at her. "No one likes clingy. Trust me, every guy I ever dated in high school and college can testify that clingy is not an attractive quality."

"Well those guys weren't Xavier Stiles. I'm sure you've met is dog," Sloan said. "The marquis de Lafayette is the clingiest, neediest dog ever—and he has separation anxiety. He follows Xavier around, even to the bathroom, and wants to sleep in bed with him."

"Are you comparing me to a dog?"

"Yes."

"Please stop."

"No, listen, he could have gotten any dog—like a great dane. It would just be big lap dog. Ooh, or a little miniature pinscher who thinks he's a big dog. That would be hilarious."

"I get it, you like a dog with identity issues."

Sloan continued, "But he picked the one with the same personality as you."

"Even still, I think one clingy companion is probably draining enough," Gigi argued. "I don't think he needs two."

"You're right, it isn't ideal. So," Sloan said, digging in her handbag. "Here." She slid a wrapped package across the desk.

Gigi stared at it. "A present?"

"Yes. Open it."

She picked it up and tore away the holiday paper. It was a book. She read, " _Love Me, Don't Leave Me_." She looked back at Sloan.

"Your life is pretty much a Kelly Clarkson song—well, different parent, same issues. Start with that." Sloan dug in her coat pocket. "And if that's not enough, here are some people who you can talk to." She placed a stack of business cards on the desk. "Then you can move from _Because of You_ onto _Piece by Piece_."

Gigi frowned down at the stack. "You were gone for hours. Did you go to every therapist office in Hartford?"

"No, just a dozen or so." She flipped through the cards and checked the backs of a few. "I noted the ones that accept your insurance. Check them out and pick one. I'll drive you to appointments if you need me to."

Gigi's eyes roved over the cards Sloan had splayed like a deck of cards in front of her. "That might be one of the most thoughtful things anyone's ever done for me." She lifted her eyes to Sloan "Why would you do all that? You don't even like me."

"That's not true, I don't really know you. I never gave you a chance," Sloan said. "And, you got my dad to change his mind. He says I can come work here when I graduate. It was because of something you said."

"Oh. It just seemed like common sense."

"Well he wasn't using any before you talked to him. So I felt like doing something nice." She slowly said, "I was also thinking that I could be your sister."

Gigi frowned. "What?"

"I heard yours is old and never around. Do you foresee the two of you becoming really close any time soon?"

She shook her head. "You can't force a deeper connection with someone who's content with the way things are."

"Okay, so maybe I could fill the sister shaped hole in your heart."

Gigi blinked. "You want to be my sister?"

"Yes. And that means, no matter what happens, I'll be here. As the younger sister, it is my right to annoy you—sometimes on accident, sometimes on purpose." Sloan added, "I'll basically be a friend that you can't get rid of. Warn your bestie that I'll be tagging along from now on."

Gigi looked at the other blond girl without saying anything for a long moment.

"What?"

"I'm just trying to think of who my best friend is."

"Who do you hang out with outside of work?"

Slowly, she said, "My dad." She cringed heavily and her shoulders dropped. "Ugh, when did _that_ happen? He isn't supposed to be my friend."

"So there's an opening?" Sloan asked eagerly.

Gigi defensively said, "I'm friendly with all the ladies in the Junior League. And I talk to Penny down the hall."

"Penny is 64."

"So?"

"She has grandkids."

"Yeah, she's told me about them."

"I don't know if you've noticed, but a lot of the people working here are old. We're probably one common interest away from being work best friends anyway."

"You really think we can be friends?"

Sloan nodded earnestly. She added, "And I'll have your back. Like if any jerk breaks your heart, I'll break his face."

Skeptically, Gigi said, "You would not break your brother's face on my behalf."

Sloan perked up, "You would have to go out with him for that to happen. Are you going to? Can he move back?"

Gigi bit her lip and nodded.

Sloan sprang up from her seat. "Let's go, before he gets away." She grabbed Gigi's wrist, barely allowing her time to snatch her coat. In her car, Sloan pulled out of the parking lot and sped down the highway. "Now, just so you know _,_ you will have to abide by the one executive per family rule. I'm still going to be your boss one day."

"We'll see."

"I'm _going_ to be your boss one day," Sloan said again, firmer.

"We will _see_."

It didn't take long before they pulled into the Stiles's driveway, Gigi's insides were a bundle of nerves as Sloan led the way into the house. "What if he's mad?" Gigi asked anxiously.

"Oh he is. He's barely said anything since you left."

They went through the kitchen and met Jason before they got to the stairs. Sloan asked, "Where's Xavier? We're here to stop him."

"He isn't here."

"What do you mean? Where is he?"

"He's gone," Jason said. "He came by the office, but you weren't there. He got an earlier flight. He said to tell you goodbye."

Gigi's heart sank. He'd never gone to the office without seeing her.

"He just left?" Sloan asked, her shoulders dropped. "That _jerk_." She turned around, heading back from where they came. "Come on."

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"We have to go to Seattle so Gigi can tell Xavier she's going to therapy so he can move back and they can be together," Sloan said very quickly.

"Oh," Jason said. He pulled out his wallet and handed her his credit card. "Here."

XXX

They got a late flight, and most of the other passengers settled in to sleep for the duration. But Gigi was way to anxious. She and Sloan still accepted blankets and pillows when the flight attendant got to them.

"When we get back, we'll go out for mani-pedis and have a movie marathon," Sloan said, arranging her bedding.

"What kind of movie marathon?" Gigi asked warily.

" _The Hunger Games_."

"To watch or to mock?"

Scandalized, Sloan asked, "Who would mock _The Hunger Games_?" She shook her head. "No, we'll watch one movie a night, with time after for discussion and analysis."

Gigi grinned a little. "Okay."

Sloan stuck an earbud in her ear and handed the second one to Gigi. As she scrolled through her music, she asked, "Have you ever listened to _1989_ and _Made in the AM_ together on shuffle?" When Gigi shook her head, she said, "It's like Taylor Swift and Harry Styles are singing to each other."

Gigi nodded once. "Huh. You know, if you married Harry Styles you wouldn't have to change your name."

"I know," Sloan said. "I always liked Louis better though."

"Yeah, he's really cute."

XXX

It was two in the morning, somewhere. If there was anyone else awake on the plane, they weren't talking. Sloan and Gigi were lounging on their pillows and covered with blankets. "I got him two sweaters and a coat, and a Seattle Seahawks jersey."

Gigi nodded. "Lafayette will like all of that." She picked up her phone to find a picture Xavier had texted of his dog, dapper in a bow tie. "Did he send you this?"

Sloan focused on the picture. "I got one where he's wearing glasses."

"Sophisticated."

"Mm," Sloan agreed with a nod. "He's the easiest to think of presents for. I didn't get anything for anyone else." She thought for a moment. "I think I'll make a really terrific aunt some day."

XXX

Gigi shifted around in her seat, trying to ease the pain in her lower back. "Why does he know so much about the subway?"

Sloan rolled her eyes and shook her head. "No one knows. He just got really interested in it when he was in high school. There was this one time our parents left us in the middle of New York. He wanted ride the subway all day, and he just _had_ to drag me along. We only went above ground to walk to different stations, and for lunch." She added, "The only thing in Manhattan he wanted to see was the cemetery at Trinity Church."

"Of course." Gigi adjusted the blanket around herself.

Sloan nodded. "The Wall Street subway station at rush hour had the fastest commuters in New York." She said, "We never went to military school, so I like to think that was our wilderness training."

"Urban wilderness?" Gigi asked. "Did you have to perform on a street corner to collect change for lunch?"

"No. Dad gave us money. For some reason he wouldn't let me hold onto it."

XXX

Gigi yawned widely. She rolled her head to face the other girl. "You know, I've learned to speak three languages, and I still don't know what your Google is set to."

"Klingon," Sloan said. "I'm the most fluent one in the family."

"Nerds."

"Do you want to learn?"

After several seconds, "I'm good."

XXX

With the time difference, it was still dark when they landed in Seattle. They took a cab to Xavier's building, where they stood in front of the locked door, staring through the window. Sloan looked at the long list of tenants. She found her brother's name and proceeded to jab the button repeatedly.

It was a full minute later before Xavier's tired voice came over the speaker. "Stop."

"Let me up," Sloan said.

"Who is me?"

"Sloan."

There was a pause. "Sloan . . . Stiles?"

"Yes, Sloan Stiles, your sister. How many Sloans do you know?"

"Only one. It's the middle of the night, what are you doing here?"

She glanced at Gigi. "I need to see you. I—brought you something. Just, let me up."

He came back on the speaker, exhaling impatiently. "Fine."

The door clicked and they went in, taking the elevator up to his floor. When they got to his door, Sloan stood in front of it, Gigi out of view of the peep hole. Sloan asked, "Do you know what you're going to say?"

Gigi shook her head.

"Okay. Wing it." Sloan knocked. When the door swung open, she bent down to pick up the marquis de Lafayette, who was at Xavier's side. Then she grabbed Gigi's arm and forced her through the door into her confused brother. "Here, this is for you. She's damaged goods, but she's going to work on it."

Gigi's jaw dropped and she glared at the other girl. " _Uh_!"

"It's okay, we're best friends now, I can be honest."

Xavier held onto her arms to steady her, while frowning between the two girls.

"I'm just going to . . ." Sloan trailed off, waving her hand half-heartedly as she turned to walk away with his dog.

" _What_?" he breathed, now that things had calmed down. "Best friends?"

Gigi nodded. "It was a long flight."

He shook his head, not caring at the moment that it didn't make sense. "Whatever."

She pointed to the living room. "Can we sit?"

His brow was still creased, not entirely happy to see her for the first time in their acquaintance. "Fine."

They went over to sit on the couch. She looked at him next to her, and she quickly stood. "Actually, I've been sitting for basically six hours. You sit, I'll stand." She put her hands on her hips while he waited. She looked down at her feet and back at him. "I didn't really plan a speech or anything."

"What are you doing here?"

"Short answer? I came to bring you back."

He was slow to respond. "I already had that idea, so I'm going to need the long answer. Have you been avoiding me?"

"Yes."

He turned his palm up. "Did I do something?"

She sat back down. "No, it's not you, it's me." He lifted his eyes to the ceiling. She took his hand to get his attention. "It's because I love you."

Flatly, he said, "You've got a funny way of showing it."

"That's why I came, to explain. I'm not naive, I know love doesn't magically make everything perfect. I'm still me," she said. "I'm just . . . Gigi. People leave, and it hurts. Or they don't care that we hardly see each other." She added, "It isn't so terrible if don't get attached in the first place. Nobody gets hurt then. And by nobody, I mean me."

"Not all people leave," Xavier said. "I was trying to do the opposite of leave."

"I know, but then we could break up," Gigi said. "That's the outcome of my relationships, usually because of me, one way or another. I didn't want you waiting for me—for that."

"That isn't for you to decide."

She blinked. "Oh." She said, "I still don't want you to."

"Well your solution sucks."

"Right." Gigi took a deep breath. "So, I'm going to talk to someone who listens to people's problems."

He didn't say anything at first. Then, "You're going to a therapist?"

In a small voice, she answered, "Yes."

"Good," he said. "You're long overdue."

She frowned at that. "Sloan found me about a dozen."

He looked at her silently for a moment. His hands, which she still held, slid to her wrists, to pull her in closer. "I'll move back and date you, for starters," he said. "I should meet your parents."

"You already met my dad."

"Parents, plural." When her shoulders dropped, Xavier nodded and raised a brow. "If your therapist is any good, yes, both of them. There's a cemetery I want to see in Paris anyway. Two birds."

Gigi mouthed, _fine_.

His hands continued up her neck to hold her face. His lips crashed to hers hungrily, the first time in months. He stopped to rest his forehead on hers. "Hey."

"What?"

"Stop thinking you're the bad one. You aren't bad."

"Oh." She nodded. "I'll work on that," she promised, resuming their kiss.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N** : It took two years since I had the idea, neglect of my other story, and more revisions than I've ever done before, so I'm glad to have it all posted now, when it's clear Gigi is not much of a priority in the world she was created in. Thank you to TL22, for previewing the story as I wrote it and providing feedback. And a big Thank You to you all for reading and reviewing!

 **Epilogue: A Year in the Life**

Gigi pulled on a glove as she watched Sloan take a swing at her golf ball. It went a respectable 170 yards out on the driving range and rolled a bit farther. Sloan had been on the school golf team since high school. She had excellent technique and handicaps in the low teens.

"Nice," Gigi said. She put her ball on the tee and swung.

Sloan shielded the sun with her hand. "How do you hit it 200 yards on your first swing?"

Gigi squinted out at her ball. "I've always been aggressive." She looked over at her friend. "The good balance and flexibility helps too." That's what that golfing coach at the club had told her, when she took a couple lessons. She had to be able to play, with clients.

Sloan shuttered. "I don't need to know any more about how flexible you are." She took another shot and watched where it landed. "I'll get more roll when it's dry at the end of summer." She swung at another ball. "Have you started looking at apartments yet?"

"No." Gigi took a swing. "Anything available now will probably be taken by next May. We have plenty of time to find something. If I agree by then."

"You will. Start looking at three bedroom apartments, to find out what you like," Sloan said after a swing that took her ball 175 yards.

"We don't need that many rooms. I can dance at the studio." Gigi taught beginners two nights a week. It turned out she was not the only little girl whose mother wanted a ballerina. She admired Michelle's ability to talk with demanding parents about their child's skills and desires to dance.

"Fine, two bedrooms then. And two bathrooms. Ooh a duplex would be nice."

"We'll see."

They hit some balls in silence for a few minutes. When Gigi's phone buzzed from her back pocket, she read a message from her dad. He was at lunch with Rory. Gigi read, "Rory says hi." _Say hi back,_ she typed.

Sloan glanced over. "When was the last time you saw her?"

Gigi pocketed her phone and thought about it. "Uh, I guess it's been a while. There's usually an obligatory holiday visit, but I was in Paris this past Christmas." _That_ had a rocky start, due to Xavier's big mouth.

"This is Xavier Stiles, my boyfriend," Gigi had introduced.

He shook the older woman's hand and confidently said, "I'm going to marry her."

Sherry's eyes widened and she turned back to Gigi. "You're engaged?"

Gigi gave him an unappreciative look. He grinned and lowered his head, pretending to be ashamed. "No."

"Are you going to have kids?" Sherry asked hopefully.

Gigi stared, incredulous.

"Oh, not for a long long time," Xavier said hastily. "I'm very immature."

"You don't want to be too old, so you can still play with them."

Gigi's eyes widened and she raised a brow at Xavier pointedly.

"Well my dad, he was 41 when my sister . . ." He had put his hands at his waist, now in the train wreck. "You know, we're pretty jet lagged, we just wanted to stop in and say hi before we nap."

Gigi swung extra hard at her ball. That one went over 200 yards. "The year before that I was at your house, and I'm going to ask my mom to come here for Christmas this year." It was only fair. "So Rory and I might miss each other again."

Sloan took a swing. "That's crazy. It isn't like you live far apart."

Gigi shrugged. "That's just how it is. It's par for the course for us to see each other once every couple of years. Rory doesn't need a sister, she has Lorelai."

Sloan shook her head.

"If cameras followed Rory and Lorelai around for a year, they could run into everyone they've ever met and still not see me."

Sloan's brows furrowed. "Why would cameras follow them for a year?"

"I don't know, like if they got their own reality show on TLC, or a streaming service, or something."

"Your sister oozes that much personality and charisma?"

Gigi took a swing and looked to the other girl. "Well, she's Rory."

"What does that mean?"

"Personality and charisma are probably in the eye of the beholder."

Sloan smirked a little and lined up her ball. "I'm pretty sure you'd get some screen time if it documented an entire year."

Gigi shook her head. "My dad might show up, and he would mention me. Or Rory might ask about me in passing, because she's good and nice and totally totally cares about me." She continued, "And he'd explain that I'm out of town on business. Or visiting my grandma, or mom. I'm very easily outsourced." She hit another ball.

Sloan argued, "If Rory totally cared, she'd see you within any given year."

Brightly, Gigi tapped on her nose and pointed at Sloan. "And yet, she doesn't." She said, "Your dad could be in it."

"In what?"

"In the year of the Gilmores. He has history with them."

"What, like a million years ago?" Sloan asked. "He has his own life, why would he show up in theirs out of nowhere?"

Gigi thought about it as she placed a ball on her tee. "Obviously, to fight my dad and Luke over Lorelai. Winner takes all."

Sloan stopped to turn and frown. "My dad wouldn't get in a fight. And what about my mom?"

Gigi frowned back. What didn't Sloan understand about good drama? "Fine, I guess she could be with him." She paused. "But only so Lorelai can self-reflect on her own life."

"Can't she just go on Facebook for that, like everyone else?"

Gigi grinned and took a shot. "Actually, it would be better if your mom wasn't the CEO, so Rory's ex-boyfriend could have the job."

"That isn't what happened," Sloan said. "And she wouldn't hand it back without a fight."

"But it would be more convenient. Rory's career is lackluster, so someone in high places who is likely still in love with her could hook her up with a job that she totally deserves anyway," Gigi said. "I mean, she's Rory, she's done everything right and got terrific grades in school."

"Well that's too damn bad. She'll have to make due on her own," Sloan said, returning to the ball she had on the tee. "This is all sounding scripted . . . poorly."

"Hey, it's not my fault it's a Gilmore world and we're just living in it—or off to the side, just out of camera shot."

Sloan hit her ball. It went 210 yards. "I think you should stick to insurance."

XXX

"So she doesn't want to live together unless they're married?" Jennifer asked. "I think that's reasonable."

Jason lifted his palm and protested, "I think moving in together implies a level of commitment, and permanence. It means you want to see each other as much as possible, and blend your lives together—share responsibilities. Why isn't that enough?"

"Well, as a woman, I can understand the need to be moving toward something—something more than an address change," Jenny said from behind the bar in their basement. "Especially as she gets older, and she knows what she wants in life. The legal promise to stay together is important."

"But all or nothing? She left no room for compromise. Isn't that throwing the baby out with the bathwater?"

"As I understand it, it isn't _all_ or nothing, just that the change in living arrangements is a no-go without a ring." She took a tray of snacks to the coffee table in front of the couch, where Xavier was lying. She asked, "Is a breakup the alternative?"

"No," he answered without taking his eyes away from the pre-game show.

She had a pointed look when she returned to the bar. "See? No."

"But still, it all changes or nothing changes. All or nothing," Jason said.

Jenny outstretched her arms at the big basement room, but indicated the whole house, or perhaps, their life. "I can't believe I'm even debating this with you."

He waved a hand. "That's different, we had a kid."

"There's a kid to think about here. It's not that different."

Jason shook his head at his wife. "Why is it so black and white with you?"

"I'm aware of the grey area," Jenny said. "I can see why he isn't eager to rush into marriage, even though he has been in the past."

"Exactly. I think he's sensitive about what people will say, how he'll be perceived."

"How will cohabitating will stop that?"

He conceded, "There will probably still be some snickering." He added, "From people like you."

Her jaw dropped. "I do not snicker. I talk about people's personal lives when they aren't in the room, as respectfully as possible." She went on, "But other people— _society_ —can't dictate what will make two people happy. If she can handle what might be said, there's no reason not to go for it."

Jason looked at her for a moment, then tilted his head. "Alright, if it's important to her, he should sign the piece of paper."

She scoffed, "God, you're romantic."

The doorbell chimed throughout the house, and Xavier sat up on the couch. "That's Chris. I'll go get it." The guys were watching a Patriots-Seahawks game. "Maybe stop talking about him by the time we get down here."

When he'd disappeared up to the main floor of the house, Jason commented, "Chris Hayden is my friend. That was a life twist I did not see coming."

Jenny gave him a strange look. "You once found out you had a three year old boy. What's the bigger twist?"

"This, by far," Jason said.

"Xavier, he's a good kid," Chris had said, over the pitcher of beer they had ordered the first time they met up, the first time they'd seen each other since camp.

Jason nodded. "He is. He's my pal. We're glad he's back." He said, "And Gigi, she works really hard. I usually forget she's your daughter—no offense."

"None taken." After confirmation that Jason's wife was an executive, Chris commented, "You know, I would have guessed that you were running your dad's company, and maybe unhappily married."

Jason nodded again. "Me too." He added, "I actually made do as a bachelor for so long, I think that's why I'm the ideal corporate spouse."

It turned out they actually had things in common. They'd each raised girls, and being the corporate spouse that he was, Jason had done a large chunk of the raising on his own, while also working.

A few drinks later, "Okay, Lena Dunham, and did we already say Selena Gomez?"

Chris nodded. "Got her."

"I always hoped she and Justin Beiber would work it out. I didn't like him, but then he sang that _I'm Sorry_ song, and I thought, okay," Jason said with a shrug.

"Yeah, me too."

Jason told Jenny, "He meandered and skirted responsibility for years." He added, "He probably came on his motorcycle."

"You could drive a—" Jenny stopped and turned around. She was covering her mouth with her hand when she turned back. "I couldn't finish the sentence." She chuckled.

"You know, Chris Hayden is a cautionary tale," Jason said. "In fact, he's _the_ cautionary tale. He took way too long to get his act together, so by the time he married the mother of his child, it didn't work." Jason shook his head. "You can't expect someone to wait forever."

Jenny was quiet for a moment. Then, "Huh."

"What?"

"I was just struck by your context. What can happen if you wait too long?"

"A lot of things."

"Things, or people?" she asked. "Like a kid with the 'wrong' woman?"

"Well . . . yeah," he said slowly. "Okay, I hear it now."

"Gigi's a person too, not just an inconvenient plot twist in someone else's life. And our son came back in large part because of her," Jenny said. "Good thing Chris had that interlude."

Wryly, Jason said, "I'll be sure to send him a thank you note."

Xavier returned then, accompanied by Gigi's father, who shook Jason's hand and complimented Jennifer on their house.

"Thanks," she said with a smile. "Hey, maybe today you guys will finally be able to list all the members of Taylor Swift's squad."

Chris shook his head. "We always come up two short."

"It really bothers me," Jason said.

Chris looked over at the TV in the corner. "Ooh, is that plasma?"

Jason nodded and headed over. "It is."

XXX

"It's so nice you could make it out," Rory said to Gigi, putting down the menu at Luke's.

"I hope it's okay Xavier came along," Gigi said, though he was not at the table with them. "He read something about a Revolutionary War reenactment on the town's website and wanted to see it since snow was in the forecast."

They had arrived early this evening, and had observed Luke's impatience with some of the customers. He'd even yelled at one and suggested the patron go somewhere else.

Xavier had leaned in to whisper, "If this is an offshoot of Ed Debevic's, the wait staff is supposed to do a song and dance number up on the countertop."

"Of course it's fine," Rory said. She glanced outside, where it had started to flurry. "Looks like Mom was right."

Gigi glanced out too. Right about what?

When Luke came over, they placed their orders, then Rory asked, "So what have you been up to? I haven't seen you in forever."

"I've been busy with work, and the Junior League," Gigi said. "I had a function to go to the other night."

"Hm, I've never thought of it before, but it's interesting," Rory said. "We both could have ended up with that life, but you did and I didn't. We could be in a nature versus nurture study."

 _That life_. So dramatic. Leave it to a Gilmore to think she's fascinating enough to merit a study.

Gigi had a good job and went to functions here and there. It wasn't that critical, and she wasn't pushed into anything. She made her life choices on her own, regardless of what anyone else thought about it. She wondered if Rory needed a reminder that of the two of them, Gigi had not been the debutante.

She changed the subject, "How was your Christmas?"

"Good," Rory said. "I was here with Mom and Luke. How was yours?"

"It was nice. My mom came for a week. We had dinner and went shopping."

"That's good, that she came to see you. I always used to wish Dad would come for Christmas," Rory said. She seemed to remember who she was talking to. "Well, we _were_ all together that one year, of course."

Gigi wondered if Rory remembered that the whole holiday had been delayed for her.

"It was nice having you guys here. You were cute in my antlers. Remember when we made cookies by scratching?"

Gigi nodded. "Right. And we strung popcorn strands." She frowned in thought. "Did your mom really get a typewriter just to write a letter to Santa?"

"What?"

"When we were making popcorn strands at the table, Lorelai was telling us about writing a letter—or having trouble writing a letter, to Santa," Gigi said, squinting in thought. "But she thought a typewriter would help. I could hear typing from up in her room."

Rory looked like a deer in the headlights for a moment, not knowing what Gigi was talking about, and then she just barely flushed. "Oh, um, yeah, she—it was important to her that you really feel the magic of Christmas," she said. "Kids grow up so fast. She wanted to you be a kid as long as possible." And then, a triumphant epiphany, "His dry cleaning! Remember? You saw her old Santa suit, so she said she did his dry cleaning. And she wanted you to know she took that job very seriously, hence the letter."

Gigi tilted her head, slightly perplexed at Rory's blabbering to avoid Something. So the letter had been for someone else, not Santa. It certainly didn't matter anymore. Gigi only said, "That was really nice of her."

Relieved that Gigi totally bought it, Rory nodded in agreement. "Yeah, Mom's the best." She changed the subject, "Dad said you got him a drone for Christmas. That's cool."

"Yeah," Gigi said. She gave Xavier the same thing. Then she brought it up in therapy. When the bell over the door jingled, Xavier walked in and joined them. She asked, "How was it?"

"Mm, they didn't really do much," he said as he took off his coat.

"Yeah," Rory said. "It was a long night of waiting. In the snow."

He pointed a thumb outside. "Those guys had shoes, so I don't think they did a lot of research."

Gigi asked, "Did they at least break out into freestyle?"

"They did not."

"Bummer."

XXX

Gigi was standing up on a chair so she could pull things down from the closet in the spare room across from her childhood bedroom. A lot of her stuff had migrated over when she lived here. When they moved in, it was once mentioned that the room should be designated as Rory's—of course she should have a space in their house, and Gigi liked that it was right across from hers. To her naive four year old brain, it hadn't seemed completely absurd to expect Rory to spend the night with them. Now, the room was getting a permanent occupant.

A lot was happening all at once this spring.

She had already gone through her things in her bedroom. Chris had reassured her that she could keep keep it the way it was, but she thought she might as well do a thorough spring cleaning while she was at it. She had already cleaned out her second room at her apartment, including removing the mirrors. It was decided her apartment would suffice after all. There was plenty of room for two people.

Gigi took a large armful of bedding and dropped it on the floor. She looked at the pile and hopped down to pick up a duvet. "Hey, it's my scrunchy bunch. _That's_ where it was."

Xavier glanced over from the books he was packing into a box. "Your what?"

"My scrunchy bunch." She demonstrated. "It scrunches, and bunches."

"Uh, okay."

Gigi smiled to herself and put it in the 'keep' box. When they were finished removing her things from the room, they carried the boxes downstairs.

They took a break for lunch at the dining table when Michelle and Ethan arrived with sandwiches for everyone. While they were all together, Gigi pulled out her phone and went to the wedding planner app. "Dad, did you get your suit dry cleaned?"

"Yes, ma'am. It's in my closet, ready to go." He shared a grin with Michelle.

Gigi turned to Ethan expectantly, who looked at his mother.

"His is at my mom's, where it won't get lost in the commotion."

"What about you?" she asked Xavier.

"I got a brand new one, actually."

Gigi raised a brow. "You have two whole suits?"

"The new one is even a three piece."

She put a hand on her chest. "Be still, my heart." She checked the tasks again. Dresses—she and Michelle had theirs ready. "The day before, Dad, you have to confirm with the restaurant, and Michelle the photographer. And the day of, I'm bringing the flowers to the chapel." She had liked the idea of pink roses cut short for centerpieces, so guests could talk, but Michelle thought it would be nice if Gigi and Rory carried small bouquets instead of wearing corsages. Then the flowers could go in vases on the tables at the restaurant for the centerpieces. Michelle was resourceful like that. To Xavier, Gigi said, "And you can help Ethan with his suit?"

"Yes."

"Can you tie a tie on another person?"

"Yes," he said, slightly indignant. "As long as I stand behind him."

"What's the final count for the dinner?" Chris asked.

Gigi checked. "13." It was bare minimum, immediate family and a few friends.

He thought about it a moment. "Is that with Rory, plus one?"

"Yes."

He shook his head. "I talked to her the other day, it'll just be her."

"Okay, then 12."

"Do you want to play _World of Warcraft_?" Ethan asked Xavier when he was finished eating.

"No," Michelle said. "We have to move our stuff in."

Xavier whispered to the boy, " _Later_."

While the others got started, Gigi and Xavier cleaned up. He asked, "Are you sure you want to stay at your apartment? You could look at other places, and re-think the whole thing."

She gave him a sidelong glance as they crumpled up the deli paper the sandwiches had been wrapped in. He was getting a bit sulky, feeling left out. She asked, "Hey, do you want to live with us?"

He looked at her. "You mean with my sister?"

"And me." Sloan was moving in with Gigi after she graduated in a couple weeks. "You're over a lot anyway, why not just live together?" She grinned cunningly and added, "We're going to do yoga and carpool to work. It's going to be fun."

"I wasn't planning on living with my sister again," he said. "It would be a regressive move, and not fun."

"No, no, it will. It could be like _Three's Company_."

"Have you ever seen _Three's Company_?"

"No, but wasn't it a guy and two girls? Like his girlfriend and their other friend?"

"I actually have no idea," Xavier said with a shake of his head. "I think I liked it better when you and Sloan were bitter rivals."

"We're still doing that, but without the bitterness." She accepted glasses and loaded them in the dishwasher after he dumped out the ice. "And obviously, this living arrangement is only temporary." She regarded him. "At least, I think. I give it one—two years, tops before we move into our own place."

"Which 'we' is that?"

She grinned. "You and me, we, silly."

"Then, no, I don't want to move in with you and Sloan. I can wait."

She picked her phone up from the table and put it back in her pocket. "You know, this might be my favorite of all my dad's weddings."

Gigi had reminded Chris two people could get married, if it's what they both wanted to do. It didn't matter what anyone else had to say about it. It wasn't their life. She asked him what he'd want to do if he hadn't been divorced. After some consideration, his answer was that he would marry Michelle.

"There will be no children at ours," Xavier told her.

"Uh, okay."

"I mean our own."

"Wedding? I got that."

"No, our own children will not be invited."

"Well that's not nice. Everyone loves a wedding."

He gave her a withering look. "I mean we will not have any, at that point—not that my parents' wedding wasn't lovely."

" _Oh_ , optimistic," she said with a nod. As they headed out, "Come on, I'm getting a mom and a brother, let's get them moved in."

 _ **Fin**_


End file.
